


A First Time For Everything

by AngeliaDark



Series: The Papyton Journey of Love [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mettaton has some body issues, Some smut in later chapters, ecto and soul play, monster pregnancy, not-so-innocent Papyrus, papyton, protective friends and siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-19 19:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5977735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeliaDark/pseuds/AngeliaDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prequel to my other Papyton stories, detailing the firsts of Mettaton and Papyrus's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Glance

The first time Mettaton had really noticed Papyrus was almost four years into his new life on the Surface.

Through the tentative start in everyone's new combined lives, Mettaton became an overnight sensation, helping bridge the gap between the two races with his jack-of-all-trades in entertainment and his equal appreciation for both sets of fans. Truly, nothing brought people together quite like gushing over a shared idol.

Through the explosion of his newfound stardom, Mettaton made good on the promise he made himself when he sat back and watched Alphys rebuild his body after the fight with Frisk, that he wouldn't let it go to his head again. That he would appreciate his friends and family, and not ignore them ever again.

It was difficult, but he always found time to video-chat with Alphys, and whenever he wasn't having a duo with Napstablook, he endlessly endorsed his cousin's music. Every year on Frisk's birthday, he took time off to celebrate the young ambassador's birthday with everyone and catch up with what he didn't hear from Alphys.

It was rare week where he was between albums, scripts, and shows, and it just so happened Alphys had some time to give him a tune-up. He made his way to her home and was let in, making happy small-talk as they walked to her lab.

Mid-way through telling Alphys about the most yawn-worthy date he had with some celebrity with all the off-screen personality of a wet napkin, Undyne literally drop-kicked her way into lab. Alphys, with these four years' worth of practice of learning to ignore the sudden enthusiastic entrances, didn't even flinch as she tweaked something in Mettaton's chest cavity.

"ALPHYS! I NEED MY PEDOMETER!" she shouted, looking like she was pumped up for SOMETHING.

"Over by the counter, Undyne," Alphys told her. "Don't push yourself so hard, and it wont break."

Undyne actually looked OFFENDED. "DON'T PUSH MYSELF!?" she repeated, slapping the pedometer on. "HOW can I beat him if I DON'T push myself?"

"Um, excuse me, but could you please NOT be here when my chest cavity is completely on display?" Mettaton cut in, his eye twitching. Undyne snorted, adjusting the strap of her pedometer.

"Trust me, 'Ton, it's nothing I haven't seen before," she said. "What's a little nudity between pals?"

"Oh my god, Undyne!" Alphys squeaked, blushing as Undyne let out loud, snorting laughter. "You're the WORST! I HOPE Papyrus beats you in your run again!"

"Wait, what—"

"UNDYNE, I'M READY FOR OUR RUN!" Papyrus hurried into the lab, already dressed in his running gear—which, since it was mid-July, was a very loose-fit cutoff top and daisy dukes. "Oh, hello Alphys, hello Mettaton!" He waved, before turning to Undyne. "Ready to get your scales kicked by my superior speed?"

"YOU ARE NOT FASTER! AND THIS TIME I'LL PROVE IT!" Undyne let out a war cry that would be terrifying if the situation were not so hilariously awkward for Mettaton, hurrying out of the lab.

Papyrus beamed, giving Mettaton another wave. "Good to see you again, Mettaton!" he chirped. "I can't wait to hear your next album!" He turned and ran off after Undyne.

Alphys let out a whoosh of breath, shaking her head. "I swear, one of these days, she's going to ask me for bionic legs so she can finally beat him," she said, fitting a part in place.

Mettaton shifted a little, making sure it was comfortable. "...How did he know I had a new album coming out?" he asked. Alphys smiled.

"He keeps up with his social network," she told him. "You're coming out with an album featuring Napstablook, who keeps updated with Frisk, who tells Papyrus EVERYTHING since they're BFFs." She fitted his chest plate back on. "...It also sort of helps that Papyrus is pretty much your biggest fan." She paused. "N-not that he's a creep or anything like that, he just REALLY likes you! Er, but then again, Papyrus likes EVERYONE, so it's not weird stalker-like you, he just has a ton of your merch and oh god I'm making him sound SO bad, just get to know him I SWEAR HE'S A GREAT GUY!"

Mettaton blinked. "Um...alright then..." he said, flicking a lock of hair out of his face, winking. "Was that a hint that I should ask him out, Alphys? Naughty thing."

Alphys squeaked, blushing hard, her eyes flicking to the door. "Oh, Mettaton, don't even JOKE about that!" she breathed, pressing her hands to her face. "ANYONE who wants to date Papyrus has to go through either Undyne or Sans first! They're SUPER protective of him!"

"...Alphys, he's a grown man."

"I don't make the rules, Mettaton...as ridiculous and overprotective and overbearing and infantilizing they are..." She shook her head. "Wait, HOW did we get to talking about you and Papyrus going on a date again?"

Mettaton stood up, stretching out his joints. "I believe it was YOU who was singing his praises right after me telling you about what a failure I am at picking my own dates," he said. "So maybe you're right. Maybe I WILL give him a shot."

"...you're just doing this to piss off Undyne and Sans, aren't you?"

"They dyed my hair orange last April Fool's, Alphys, if I happen to have a great time with Papyrus, I'll consider it icing."


	2. The First Date

Their first date could hardly have been considered a 'date' by Mettaton's standards, but apparently to Papyrus, it was a few steps up from his 'usual fare', whatever that meant.

After waiting for Undyne and Papyrus to come back, Mettaton had walked right up to Papyrus and point-blank asked him out for a date sometime. Oh, the look on Undyne's face was something he would keep on file for something to recall and enjoy for a long time.

Papyrus looked stunned for a moment, like he could hardly believe that Mettaton—fully repaired and body gleaming—would be asking him out after coming back rumpled from a three-mile run with Undyne, and Mettaton swore he saw star-shaped sparkles in the Skeleton's eyes.

"It would be my honor to take you out on a date, Mettaton!" he exclaimed, his voice going an octave higher from glee before his expression went serious. "Friday, six-thirty, casual dress, and be punctual." He checked his watch. "Whoopsie, look at the time, I have to pick Frisk up from school!" He then waved and took off, not even making it to his car before shouting to...well, anyone withing hearing distance, that he had a date with Mettaton.

Well slap his aft casing and call him smitten, if that wasn't the dorkiest, most adorable thing Mettaton ever saw someone do when asked on a date. It was certainly worth the magic spears thrown in his direction, anyway.

* * *

He had Alphys on speakerphone while he got ready, shaking his head as he listened to her wail on about how Undyne was peeved off and how she was going to be telling Sans and 'oh god, Mettaton, why didn't you just listen to meeeeee'.

"Alphys, sweetie, it'll be FINE," he said, rolling his eyes. "Trust me, if things go pear-shaped, I'll just go to default mode so they can't hurt me." He smirked, turning a button on his chest to change his armor color from pink to lavender, then to an electric blue. "Or, you know, if they DO hurt me, they'll have to answer to my adoring fans."

He muffled a snicker when Alphys let out a long, pained groan, the sound of a head flopping onto a desk clearly heard over the phone.

* * *

Well, he quickly learned that when Papyrus said 'casual', he MEANT casual.

The date he had in mind was an evening stroll in the park, where there were plenty of well-lit walking trails and several vendors that remained open after dark. Papyrus showed up in his car wearing cargo shorts and a hoodie, and Mettaton—for once, oddly—felt entirely overdressed with his pleather leg covers and the chest casing he'd swapped out to resemble a halter top (and of course his heels, he never went anywhere without them), but Papyrus didn't mention it.

Mettaton began noticing then, little things about Papyrus; like how he didn't care about definitions of 'casual', or how he actually wore glasses when he drove, or obeyed every minute driving rule. And how he could parallel park like a GENIUS.

Walking around the park was oddly relaxing, Mettaton came to find. The clear, cloudless sky shone with dazzling colors of the evening that Mettaton never grew tired of and even gave him inspiration for future wardrobe designs, and the chatter of birds and other evening park-goers made for a comfortable atmosphere.

Papyrus showed him around nearly every inch of the place, like his and Undyne's favorite running route, the disk golf area, the small lake where some swans were gliding to, and of course, the playground equipment. Seeing a seven-foot tall adult Skeleton using the swing set was truly a funny and endearing sight, but seeing as how much genuine fun Papyrus was having encouraged Mettaton to join him on the adjacent swing.

Okay, yes. He would admit it. This was fun. Slightly LESS fun when Papyrus challenged him to see who could swing the highest and the weight of being made of metal made him tip backwards and crash to the ground. Papyrus jumped right off of his swing and helped him up with no problems at all, which somewhat surprised Mettaton; for being entirely bones, he didn't think Papyrus would have the strength to pick him right up off the ground, but this day certainly was full of surprises.

His bruised pride—and backside—was helped when Papyrus got them both some Nice Cream. Mettaton's curiosity as to how Skeletons ate was finally sated when he caught himself watching Papyrus form an ectoplasmic tongue in his mouth to lick the Nice Cream with, seeing a spark of orange magic light in the Skeleton's right eyesocket. And whatever went into Papyrus's mouth seemed to be dissolved by magic by the time it reached the bottom of his neck.

Well. That was good to know, if they were ever going to go to a restaurant in the near future.

The evening gave way into night, when Papyrus led the way to a hill at the edge of the park and flopped back on the ground, staring up at the sky. Seeing all the stars twinkling in the clear sky had Mettaton staring too, enjoying the ambiance and, admittedly, the company. This was casual, indeed, and just the casualness that Mettaton really needed after high-profile dating disasters.

Sitting in silence got Mettaton thinking about something. From what he DID know about Papyrus, the Skeleton was almost as loud and exuberant as Undyne, but tonight he had been oddly quiet, but not shy; calm but not cautious. He couldn't imagine it was just because he was on a date with his self-exclaimed idol.

Odd.

After another hour of stargazing, they unanimously decided that it was date over; Papyrus, mostly, since he said he had work to do in the morning, and Mettaton realized that other than personal observation, he hadn't learned much about Papyrus at all. Well, THAT just wouldn't do. When Papyrus dropped him back off at Alphys's place, he leaned against the car door, smiling at Papyrus.

"So," he said, leaning his weight forward on the car's lowered windowsill, half-hoping Undyne was snooping on the drop-off scene and got a decent view of the ass she could kiss for all he cared. "When's the next date?"

Papyrus looked up, his expression genuinely surprised. "Er...you...WANT another date...?" he asked, the first tone of uncertainty in his voice showing up all evening. It threw Mettaton off-track, for two reasons. First was Papyrus's sudden lack of confidence; the second was his actual disappointment he felt that 'oh hell yes' wasn't the first thing out of Papyrus's mouth.

He paused for a moment before opening the car door and sliding back in. "...Don't you...WANT to go on another date?" he asked, trying to output his _'I'm THE Mettaton'_ tone, but internally cringing when it came out as more of the Blook lack of confidence he was born and bred with.

Papyrus's expression mirrored what was going on in Mettaton's mind, his hands kneading the steering wheel tightly. "...I...I do enjoy your company, yes..." he replied, his words thick and slow as though putting a LOT of effort into choosing them carefully. "But...you're...well, YOU." Though his tone didn't even make it sound like an insult, Mettaton still thought it felt like one; to his ego, anyway. "This was FUN, and all, but if I've never had a second date with anyone else, why would YOU want one?"

Mettaton felt more than a little out of his element here. Papyrus was right; this HAD been fun. Fun enough to want to do it again, that was the POINT of dates. And he'd never had a second date? THAT seemed a little hard to swallow. Just from tonight alone, Mettaton found Papyrus to be confident, charming, considerate, and having an appreciation for humble, simple things. He put his attention on you, and the simple little things he did with you sort of made it seem like sharing a fun secret like kids would. Who couldn't become enamored by THAT?

…...huh. Well. Not HIM, apparently...

"...Because I had fun, and I would like to have fun again," Mettaton said. "And if you've never had a second date, then there's always a first time for everything."

Mettaton had been in a couple of shows where the characters had to 'look like the sun was rising on their face', but DAMN if Papyrus didn't just do it perfectly right there, practically glowing in the darkness of his car.

…...no, wait, LITERALLY. The Skeleton's soul was GLOWING through his hoodie, and his cheekbones actually had a soft orange glow to them. The sight made Mettaton's own soul flutter in its casing. Oh yes, he was smitten.

"ALRIGHT THEN!" Papyrus exclaimed, startling Mettaton. The Skeleton took out a notebook and jotted several things down, tearing the page out and handing it to Mettaton. "Here's my home phone number, my cellphone number, and my MonsterNet account handle!" He winked, and Mettaton swore he saw star-shaped eyelights again. "Don't hesitate to call!"

Mettaton blinked, then smiled, tucking the slip of paper into his pocket. "Oh, I won't," he replied. "Thank you for the nice date, Papyrus." He got back out of the car and waved, heading into Alphys's house and most definitely putting a little more sashay into his hip work.

Alphys and Undyne didn't even LOOK like they weren't looking in on the drop-off, Alphys looking thirsty for details while Undyne looked thirsty for blood—or, in Mettaton's case, oil.

"Well?" Alphys squealed, looking excited. "How'd it go?"

"And did you keep your hands to yourself?" Undyne growled, crossing her arms. Mettaton smirked, slipping the piece of paper from his pocket.

"I got his number, if that's what you're asking," he said. "And Undyne, dear, you KNOW that I don't kiss and tell." He headed to the guest room, smirking at Alphys's fangirl squeals and Undyne's indignant sputters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inserted picture is courtesy of the WONDERFUL nellbailey on tumblr! Thank you SO much for the art, you're an absolute perfect doll! Anyone with a tumblr, take a gander at her work and reblog, it's fantastic!


	3. The First Kiss

Although he had looked in on Papyrus's social media, it took quite awhile for Mettaton to scrounge up enough real free time to ask Papyrus out on that second date.

To be honest, he wanted to see what kind of person Papyrus was when they weren't face-to-face, so he browsed the Skeleton's MonsterNet profile for awhile, and found himself spending over an hour just on the past six months' worth of status posts alone.

He found that Papyrus was a trade-school graduate in culinary arts that was working at a pretty posh restaurant as both a cook and a server, seemed obsessed with selfies—and photography in general—and updated nearly ever mildly interesting thing about his life.

In the more current updates, Mettaton simply saw that it said 'GOING ON A DATE!', and then later that same day, 'HAD A GREAT TIME! CAN'T WAIT FOR ANOTHER DATE!'.

It took a bit of thinking to realize that Papyrus was probably keeping a low profile for Mettaton's sake, and couldn't help but smile at the Skeleton's thoughtfulness. Well that cinched it. Another date it was.

And another.

And another.

And before Mettaton knew it, he was smack-dab in steady territory.

Papyrus was a very good sport about their conflicting schedules; sometimes, when Mettaton had some free time, Papyrus was picking up another shift at work and would politely reschedule for another time. It was oddly...nice, in Mettaton's opinion. He was so used to people of higher social status scheduling and dropping things entirely for him, and yet PAPYRUS had his priorities in order.

He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Papyrus had odd priorities, but by god if he didn't stick to his guns with unshakable devotion. Family came first, then career, THEN dating, and instead of feeling insulted that he apparently came third, the amount of attention and devotion Papyrus gave him when they DID have dates made him feel almost...honored to have a place in those priorities.

It was one of those subtly shrewd things Mettaton found about Papyrus that kept him intrigued. Under all the exuberance and gung-ho, there was a level of caution that it took Mettaton awhile to see. After every joke and activity, there were a few moments of just WATCHING, like Papyrus was weighing how Mettaton would react before moving on.

It was like Papyrus was seeing if Mettaton was worth the effort.

That was a humbling thought to Mettaton, since it was usually the other way around. But then thinking about the level of devotion Papyrus put into whatever it was—or WHOever it was—he had an interest in...it was understandable. Mettaton himself hated wasting his time on something he knew wouldn't be good in the long run, so...

….it made him WANT to be worthy of Papyrus's attention.

So he began putting his own effort in. He took note of Papyrus's hobbies, and areas of interest, and found he enjoyed quite a few of those things too. They would cook together—while Papyrus preferred stove top dishes, Mettaton loved baking—and critique movies—Mettaton for the costume design and Papyrus for action scenes—and they even played basketball in the park. Papyrus was surprisingly good at the sport, his height being quite the boon, but no match for Mettaton's footwork.

In an ever-changing schedule, it was great to have that kind of relaxing, steady rock that was Papyrus, knowing that whether in a cocktail dress-suit (his own design) for dining out or cutoff jeans for playing basketball and disk golf, Papyrus didn't care and just enjoyed his company.

* * *

"THIS IS THE WORST POSSIBLE THING EVER!"

Alphys winced at the volume of Mettaton's voice over the phone as she typed up something she was currently working on. "Mettaton, I know!" she replied, exasperated and more than a little stressed. "But I CAN'T drop a government project, Mettaton, your repairs are going to have to wait!"

She winced again when a long, angsty wail came from her phone. "Mettaton, I can PROMISE you a week, max! Then I'll be done and come right over to fix your body, but until then...I...I don't know, why don't you call your agent and tell him you need a couple weeks of vacation! You've never taken one before, and let's face it, you need one anyway."

".. _.*sigh*_ Alright..." Mettaton's voice sighed from the other end of the phone, sounding so morose that Alphys thought Napstablook took the phone for a moment. "...A week, then?"

"Yes, WITHOUT interruptions," Alphys said firmly. "I promise you, Mettaton, I'll get your repairs done as soon as possible. Just relax while you can, okay?"

"...okay. Thank you, Alphys."

"I'll see you soon, Mettaton." Alphys hung up, rubbing her temples. Of ALL times for Mettaton's body to malfunction! And it wasn't an easy repair that Mettaton could do himself, it was a 'dismantle and rebuild from scratch' type deal. There would even need to be mandatory upgrades and a better energy convergence...that ALONE would probably take ANOTHER week!

To make matters worse, Napstablook was on tour and couldn't keep him company in this trying time.

She leaned back in her chair, taking a brief typing break for a moment. She really didn't want to leave Mettaton alone like this. She knew Mettaton suffered from major confidence issues and even after getting his body back, he would probably be suffering a little after.

Alphys tapped her clawtips on the table for a moment before picking up the phone. It was a gamble, but she was 98% SURE it would pay off.

* * *

Papyrus walked into Mettaton's small vacation house near Alphys's place, looking around quietly. When Alphys had called him saying that Mettaton NEEDED company during this little vacation break from the public and given him the security codes to get in, he was naturally a little afraid for Mettaton.

He had the thought that maybe Mettaton was having some bad days...Sans did sometimes, and a closed-in day watching bad movies sometimes helped. So Papyrus came prepared with some movies Mettaton liked, walking around quietly so not to startle him.

Some noise near the back alerted him to where Mettaton was, heading toward it and finding a rec room of sorts with a wall-sized TV and a large plush couch to sit and watch the TV with. The TV was playing through some show on the history channel about some ancient human culture, but Papyrus didn't care about that.

On the couch blankly watching the TV was a small, pink-tinged Ghost Monster.

"...uhhhhh..." was all Papyrus could get out oh-so-intelligently. The Ghost squeaked, looking up sharply, bright pink eyes widening in shock.

"OMIGOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?" they squeaked, diving behind the couch. "DON'T LOOK AT ME, PAPYRUS!"

Papyrus averted his eyes on reflex of being so desperately told to, but then paused, turning his head to the couch, looking at the little Ghost who wailed and ducked behind the couch again. That almost sounded like...

"...M...Mettaton...?" The Ghost wailed again, sounding genuinely distraught, and Papyrus just COULDN'T have any of that! He crept closer to the couch before kneeling down in front of it. "...Mettaton...are...are you alright...?"

Another loud wail that sounded like he was on the verge of tears. "DON'T LOOK AT ME!" Mettaton repeated. "Just...just...oh GOD, please don't tell anyone...!"

Papyrus paused before creeping closer to the couch, peering over it. "...Mettaton...why are you crying?" he asked, concerned. "...why are you embarrassed? You're—"

"What? An illusion?! A SHAM?!"

"...so cute."

Mettaton's pale pink form turned magenta under his eyes, squeaking softly as he looked up. Papyrus was peering down at him, having the same look on his face as when they were feeding baby swans at the lake—the look of barely containing himself from scooping one up and cuddling it.

"...y...you think I'm...cute...?" Mettaton said, mostly to himself, hardly able to believe it. Ghost Monsters were the most ignored and overseen of all the Monsters, hardly able to be called...cute. But Papyrus wasn't one to give out falsehoods...and the look on his face was so earnest.

"Of course I do!" Papyrus replied, beaming. "But anyway, I'm here because Alphys said you needed some company during your vacation...so you won't be lonely." He held up the bag of movies he brought. "I brought your favorites...and I have the whole weekend off! So what do you say?"

Mettaton rubbed at his magenta face, trying to fight down his blushing. Oh goodness, why did Papyrus have to be so sweet NOW, when Mettaton didn't have his metal body to hide his emotions behind!?

He let out a sigh, floating up from behind the couch up eye-level to Papyrus. "...You don't have to spend all your time here..." he replied quietly, cursing his innate Blook shyness. Papyrus just beamed in response.

"Of course I don't!" he said. "I WANT to! It's what couples do, after all!" He began fishing through the bag of movies to find one to watch.

Mettaton settled back on the couch, rubbing his face again. "...You...still...want to be a couple?" he asked softly. Papyrus looked up, his expression confused.

"Um...yeah," he said. "Aren't we? Oh no, are you breaking up with me because I came into your house!?"

"What? No! Why would you—I just didn't think you'd...I mean, my body's malfunctioned and I can't really do much of anything, and..." He trailed off, feeling tears well up, berating himself for letting his old emotional weakness overwhelm him again. He looked up when Papyrus hovered a hand near his body.

"...Mettaton, if THIS is the real you, then it's still YOU," the Skeleton told him, his expression still seriously earnest, like it was OBVIOUS. "I wasn't dating you for your BODY, you know...I like YOU." He beamed, holding up a movie. "I brought Grease! And it's the sing-along version!"

He turned and popped the movie into the player before sitting back on the couch with a definite 'that's that' air. Mettaton slowly blinked before settling back on the couch next to Papyrus, feeling his blush come back to his face again.

And that was, indeed, that.

* * *

"Okay, Mettaton, you'll need to stay in this form for at LEAST a day while the upgrades settle in," Alphys said, giving Mettaton's initial rectangular form a final polish. The front LED lights flickered for a moment before settling on a simplified smiley face-shape.

"Oh, that's perfectly fine, Alphys," Mettaton replied. "I waited two weeks for this, I can wait another day for perfection." He flexed his hands to get a feel for them again. "And I can't thank you enough for this, really."

"It's nothing, Mettaton, you know that," Alphys replied, smiling. And really, it wasn't. She was more than happy to do this for Mettaton, same as before, so long as she got a 'thank you' out of it in the end.

Mettaton waved his hand dismissively. "No, Alphys, I INSIST," he said, hurrying off to fetch something before coming back, handing an envelope to her. "You and Undyne take a cruise. You NEED it, and you DESERVE it."

Alphys's eyes widened. "Oh, Mettaton...you shouldn't have...!" Mettaton's LEDs flickered.

"I won't hear another word about it, Alphys!" he said, hands on his sides. "You've given me my body back and IMPROVED upon it GREATLY! Something YOU didn't have to! So I want you and Undyne to go on vacation and have a good time." His lights flickered again when Alphys hugged him tightly, squealing loudly.

"THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! Oh, I have to go tell Undyne!" Alphys took off, whipping out her cellphone to tell her girlfriend the news. Not a moment after she left, Papyrus poked his head in.

"All done here?" he asked, beaming. Mettaton turned around, quelling down a flicker of shyness. For the past two weeks, Papyrus had made it clear that he didn't care what form Mettaton took, and he was going to remember it.

"Yes, darling, I am," Mettaton replied. "I just have to wait another day to let the upgrades settle before I can get back to my ACTUAL body, but that's no problem." He let out a static yelp when Papyrus picked him up—PICKED HIM UP!—and held him at eye-level.

"Mettaton, ANY body is your actual body," Papyrus said, his voice serious. "And I'll like you no matter WHAT body you're in." He was quiet for a moment before leaning in, his magic fluttering out as he touched his jaw to Mettaton's front.

In his body, Mettaton felt his soul twitch hard, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that Papyrus had just given him a kiss. His soul heaved a tangible, fluttering sight as the LED lights of his front formed a very definite and clear heart shape.


	4. The First Dinner With the Family

By this point in his career, Mettaton knew the difference between having dinner, and Having Dinner. To him, having dinner was eating hibachi takeout with Alphys and Undyne during his visits, taking an evening off to dine alone in a cafe, or going out to eat with Papyrus.

Having Dinner was not 'dinner'; Having Dinner was a time for round-table discussions, writing up contracts, and wishing that his alcohol tolerance wasn't sky-high by the end of the night. In other words...

"Mettaton, Toriel insists you come over for Dinner this weekend!"

Dinner with Papyrus's family.

Oh, Mettaton had some meals with his old Underground circle in the past, mostly around Frisk's birthday, or for special anniversaries and the like, but this was different. This was PAPYRUS'S FAMILY.

Papyrus lived in the same house as his brother Sans, Sans's girlfriend, former Queen Toriel, and Ambassador Frisk. Mettaton found it odd that Papyrus would be living in the same house as the other three, but he shrugged and told him 'it saves on rent'. Which was fair enough, and considering what a voraciously tidy person Papyrus was, he was sure Toriel appreciated the extra help with a teenager and a Skeleton so lazy he once fell asleep in the front yard and almost gave the mailman a heart attack, even AFTER showing it was just ketchup coming out of his jacket.

Everyone was nice enough, sure...but Mettaton definitely got the capital-D-for-Dinner vibe from it. It was especially more of an omen ever since it had become close-friends knowledge that he and Papyrus were dating.

Although Toriel was dating Sans, she had this motherly vibe around Papyrus that Mettaton couldn't help but notice. Hell, when he picked Papyrus up for dinner in his own car, he watched her straighten Papyrus's collar and gave Mettaton a 'have him back by 11 or so help me' look. It was intimidating enough, but NOTHING compared to the look SANS gave him.

Mettaton already got the vibe that Sans wasn't his biggest fan; not in a BAD way, just that his work wasn't the smaller Skeleton's bottle of ketchup, so to speak, and that was fine by him, no problem. Sans still greeted him, pranked him like he would everyone else, and was generally a pleasant guy to be around...until he ran into them while they were having lunch.

It was mid-August, and still Mettaton swore the temperature dropped about fifteen degrees. The permanent smile on Sans's face turned sinister, and the little eyelights in his eyesockets vanished. Mettaton got a whole new, terrifying view of Sans in the span of exactly one second before the sensation went away, Sans said his goodbyes, and left them to their date.

But it wasn't a sensation one really forgot, and Mettaton was reminded of it every time he saw the smaller Skeleton.

And now he was being invited over for Dinner, and he knew what that meant.

He was going to be judged like a piece of meat.

Mettaton was used to being judged up here; first for being a Monster, second for being a robot, third for being an INCREDIBLY pretty male—gender roles were SO outdated up here—and fourth for his style and everything that applied to it. Being judged was NOTHING to him.

But being third on the pecking order of Papyrus's priorities was where the issue began. Family game first, and this Dinner could literally make or break this relationship. If Papyrus's family didn't approve, that was IT.

It was bad enough he was SURE he already had a strike against him for assaulting Frisk back Underground...

* * *

Mettaton would deny it until his dusting day, but he was legitimately in a frantic panic over this Dinner. He emptied his closet trying to find something to wear, tried on sixteen different outfits, screamed into a pillow, then called Alphys for advice and emotional support.

By the time Papyrus picked him up, Mettaton had settled on a pair of black loose-fit high-rise slacks and a nice pink top, something dressy but not formal, casual but not sloppy. From Papyrus's gleeful expression, he found that it would do, and spent the drive to Papyrus's house building up his DETERMINATION to make this work.

He'd never been inside Papyrus's house before, only seeing glimpses of the foyer from the front door in picking Papyrus up. But now inside, he found it very tidy but homey, smelling like a fine meal that made Mettaton's soul flutter. Along the walls were dozens of framed photos, most of which depicting family and friends. The cheerfulness of the photos made Mettaton smile.

He looked up when Frisk hurried down the stairs, beaming when they saw him. "Hi, Mettaton!" they said happily, rushing up and hugging him. Mettaton smiled, petting their head, impressed at how tall they were getting.

"Hello, darling," Mettaton greeted back. "My, you're getting so big and gorgeous! You'll be beating away boys and girls with a stick in no time!"

Frisk grinned. "Already am, Metta," they said cheekily, giving Mettaton a wink and finger-pistols. "They can't resist MY flirting."

Mettaton almost squealed, clasping his hands together. "I don't think I've ever been prouder, darling!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, 'cause you'd know all about flirting, eh, Mettaton?"

Oh dear, good feeling gone. Mettaton's smile twitched when Sans seemed to appear out of nowhere, leaning against the wall and sucking ketchup right out of the bottle. For someone without eyes, he was pinning Mettaton with SOMETHING pretty effectively.

 _'Don't let him get to you, Mettaton!'_ he told himself. _'He's just protective of his brother, is all. Make a good impression, and he might back off...'_ He straightened his metaphorical spine and gave Sans a smile. "Oh, I CAN be, Sansy dear," he replied, winking. "But I spend all of my flirting power on Papyrus." He gave an internal point to himself when he saw Sans visibly twitch from the 'Sansy' comment.

"No trying to steal my boyfriend, Sans!" Papyrus huffed, curling an arm around Mettaton's shoulders, the gesture almost making Mettaton heave a sigh of relief. "You already have Toriel!"

Frisk giggled at the banter. "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes," they said, smiling. "Why don't I show you around the house, Mettaton?" They grabbed Mettaton's hand and pulled them toward the stairs, slowing their pace at the top, lowering their voice. "You holding in alright?"

Mettaton blinked, his cheeks heating up as his posture slumped. "Oh god, is it THAT obvious?" he whispered back, fanning himself. "I feel like my circuits are going to burst...!" Frisk gave his hand a squeeze.

"Sans is just being overprotective," they said, leading Mettaton down the hall. "Mom will be easier to impress. Just compliment the food and show her that you really care about Papyrus. I know you do."

"...You do?" Mettaton asked, blinking. Frisk nodded.

"Yeah, it's kind of obvious," they replied, shrugging. "See, if Papyrus isn't interested in something, it doesn't keep his attention for long, and he's head over HEELS for you." They giggled, nudging their foot against Mettaton's stilettoed heel. "Though, I HOPE heads STAY over heels, if you get my meaning..."

"DARLING!" Mettaton yell-whispered, his face going pink. "GOODNESS, when I was talking about flirting down there, I didn't mean—"

"Puh-LEEZE, Mettaton," Frisk muttered, rolling their eyes. "Papyrus gave me the Monster Talk when I was eleven, so that tells me he's got SOME knowledge on the matter. I was just teasing." They pulled the mech into their room. "...just don't let Sans in on it. He seems to be under the delusion that Papyrus wears a chastity belt around his pelvis and I don't shop for cute underwear online."

Mettaton snorted, nudging Frisk. "Naughty thing."

"You've no idea. You should read my fanfiction."

"You should read Alphys's."

"I have, where do you think I got that 'head-over-heels' play on words from?"

"Oh my GOD..."

* * *

After exploring the hodgepodge of interest that was Frisk's room, they lead Mettaton past a closed door—"That's Sans's room. Skipping THAT for obvious reasons."—and onto Papyrus's room, opening the door to let Mettaton peek in.

Mettaton felt his cheeks heat up again when he saw a ton of his posters and paraphernalia that were considered highly-collectible since they came from the Underground, all painstakingly framed and displayed neatly around the room. Mettaton knew that Papyrus was a fan of his, and the well-preserved pictures and models seemed to be a homage to that.

Among his paraphernalia, Mettaton saw other things of interest, even little action figures that were lined up on a shelf, a computer on a desk in the corner of the room, and a twin-width bed that was obviously a special order, what with Papyrus being seven feet tall and all. The whole room was very VERY tidy, with nothing out of place, but still retaining an air of being lived-in and loved.

The mini-tour was cut short when Toriel called them down for dinner. Mettaton descended the stairs with Frisk, heading into the dining room where a lovely meal was set out. Sans was already kicked back in his chair—next to Papyrus, predictably. That was left with Mettaton sitting next to Frisk on the other side of the table and Toriel at the head.

Remembering Frisk's advice, Mettaton gave Toriel a smile. "It looks lovely, Toriel," he said, sitting himself down next to Frisk. Toriel gave Mettaton a hint of a smile, sitting down too. Frisk gave Mettaton a 'good going' nudge, Papyrus beamed, and Sans gave him a smirk.

"Sure you can even eat, 'Ton 'Ton?" he asked, obviously punching back after Mettaton's 'Sansy' comment. Mettaton huffed, but wasn't even bothered to answer when Papyrus gave Sans's arm a gentle smack.

"Of COURSE he can eat, Sans!" Papyrus said. "We've been on many lunch and dinner dates! And I'll have you know he's also a DREAM at baking! I've YET to taste better cream puffs!"

Mettaton blushed at the praise; he'd heard Papyrus gush about his sweets before, but never to other people. It was...nice.

"Oh, you bake?" Toriel said, smiling. "I enjoy baking as well, though my specialties are pies. I do enjoy a good snail pie—"

It took all of Mettaton's self-control to NOT retch. Having grown up on the snail farm, he was oddly attached to the creatures, and the thought of having them EATEN... He forced a smile on his face. "Er...I'm...more partial to cherry pie myself, Toriel..." he said. "...I can give you the recipe. It tastes better if you add a good bit of cinnamon to it."

"How do you feel about butterscotch?"

"A wonderful dessert, perfect for ice cream topping."

That was apparently the right answer, as Toriel beamed and made small talk about other food-related items before putting her fork down and tenting her fingertips.

"...So, how did you and Papyrus begin your relationship?"

Oh goodness, he had completely forgotten that he was talking to the former Queen and the current mother (figure) of Frisk and Papyrus. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to lodge his fork into Sans's smirking face, and instead smiled at Papyrus.

"Oh, well, a couple months ago, I was getting some tune-ups done at Alphys's, and I was complaining about this DISASTROUS date, and Alphys began singing Papyrus's praises to me." He smiled at Papyrus. "It just so happened Papyrus was there to meet up with Undyne, and I figured I'd give it a shot. So I asked him out, we had a great time, and he gave me his number. The rest is brief history up to now."

"So, that's...what, about two months, huh?" Sans said, twirling his fork between his fingers. "Pretty decent record, if your tabloids are anything to go by."

Oh, this runt was asking for a kick in the coccyx. Mettaton felt an indignant heat rise in his chest, but his little cloud of anger was broken by something touching his shin. Considering Frisk was on the opposite side of him and Sans's feet couldn't even touch the floor, that left...

He flicked his eyes to Papyrus, whose eyelights flickered a little as the touch on his shin drifted down toward his ankle, the implication both playful and comforting. Mettaton let his shoulders drop, giving Sans a firm look.

"Why, yes actually," he said, looking Sans right in the eyesocket. "A personal record I intend to extend, Sans," he said. "For a VERY. LONG. TIME." _'GEEEEEEEEEEEEET DUNKED ON, HALF-PINT.'_

A flicker of blue appeared in Sans's left eyesocket and Mettaton swore he heard battle music, but it was snuffed out when Frisk loudly suggested dessert. Toriel agreed, standing and gathering up the plates, calling for Sans to help. The smaller Skeleton sighed, scooting his chair back, but Mettaton wasn't done YET.

"Oh, don't you bother yourself, sweetie," he said, stacking the plates with ease. "I'm MORE than happy to help!" He headed into the kitchen with the dishes, and was promptly shooed out by Toriel who insisted first-time guests were exempt, but Mettaton was sure he scored extra brownie points there anyway. He still insisted on carrying the coffee out, handing them off to everyone.

"Half-coffee half-milk for Frisk, sugar and milk for Papyrus...and how do you take yours, Sans? Black?" _'Like your cold, void heart you little gremlin...'_

"Same as Papyrus," Sans replied, his smile twitching as though hearing Mettaton's internal comment.

"Silly Mettaton, YOU take yours black," Papyrus said, fixing Mettaton's for him. Mettaton smiled, giving Sans a 'look' again.

"Oh, this time, Papy darling, I could take it nice and sweet."

The twin sputters from Toriel and Frisk into their coffee was totally worth Sans almost dropping his in his lap. Mettaton sat back down at the table, sipping his coffee with the added sugar. Hm. Perhaps he WOULD be taking it with sugar from now on, this was quite good.

He was a bit concerned that the last comment might have been a little too much, but the feel of Papyrus's foot on his leg again—this time drifting a little HIGHER—let him know that the comment was known, acknowledged, and, from the slight smirk on the taller Skeleton's face, much appreciated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might put up another chapter today, in honor of Valentine's Day. *suggestive wink*


	5. The First Backseat Romp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter in honor of Valentine's Day! Enjoy!

Truthfully, Mettaton should have known that from both Frisk telling him that Papyrus 'might' know more about amorous activities than he let on, and from Papyrus's subtle expression while practically molesting his shin during dessert that the Skeleton might be ready for a more intimate step in their relationship.

There had been plenty of hand-holding, hugs, and even the occasional kiss, which Mettaton was certainly happy with. Papyrus was certainly creative with his magic in THAT aspect, able to flutter out his magic to make it seem more like they were actually kissing. The feel of magic on his lips gave Mettaton a tingle that he didn't normally get from previous trysts, so it was always a great thing when Papyrus did it, which wasn't as often as Mettaton would like.

Mettaton craved physical affection; he supposed it was almost an addiction, since with his metal body he was able to feel things he never could as a Ghost. Papyrus was very much a hand-holder, a hugger, and a cuddler, but not so much else. It was a slow move forward for them, but at least in the span of four months, Mettaton figured out at least a FEW things Papyrus enjoyed, physical-wise.

He found that even though Papyrus sometimes kept his spine on display, it was a little sensitive to touch, but nowhere near as sensitive as his ribs. Just touching one would put a bright orange blush on Papyrus's cheekbones that Mettaton found absolutely adorable. It made him think of what would happen if he touched other bones, preferably the pelvic area, but then he would force his mind out of the gutter.

He was honestly content with the speed he and Papyrus were going with. He didn't feel objectified, rushed, or like a status symbol, he was just...a Monster in a relationship. He could most definitely live with that.

* * *

It was early November and a very cold night when Papyrus took him out on the road for a 'surprise date'. Mettaton bundled up in a big fluffy coat he didn't need—but honestly, he HAD to stay on top of fashion and winter clothing was too adorable to not indulge in—and looked out the window as Papyrus drove them out of the city and through a small mountain range.

The trip took almost two hours and it was night by the time Papyrus parked the car on a high cliff. "Here we are!" he said, beaming. Mettaton looked out the window; the view was lovely with the cold mountains being illuminated by an almost-full moon, stars dotting the sky and shining like diamonds.

"It's beautiful, Papyrus," Mettaton said, "but why are we here? It can't just be for the view."

"Au contraire," Papyrus replied, lowering the top of his car and relocating to the back seat, holding up a hidden basket and a blanket. "We ARE indeed here for the view!" He beckoned Mettaton back to join him, opening the basket and taking out two thermoses, handing Mettaton one. Mettaton unscrewed the top, the smell of Papyrus's special recipe for hot chocolate wafting out, still piping hot.

"Oh my, your special hot chocolate, a fleece blanket, and the stars? I think you're spoiling me, Papyrus," Mettaton said, smiling. It was definitely a treat, in his opinion. Simple but very well-thought-out dates like this were just the things that made Mettaton's soul flutter.

Papyrus beamed, leaning back and taking a sip of his own chocolate. "Oh, you're not spoiled YET, Mettaton," he said sneakily before checking his watch before turning the radio on, keeping the volume to background noise-level. "But you will be."

Well this was new. Mettaton decided to let Papyrus boost up the anticipation, sipping the hot chocolate, smiling at the taste of gourmet cocoa and butterscotch with just a hint of chili for more heat and zing. He could sell this recipe for a pretty penny. But for right now, he was happy to keep this recipe between himself and Papyrus, tucking the blanket around himself.

He blinked when he felt Papyrus's arm curl around his shoulders and non-too-subtly pull him closer, feeling his cheeks heat up. Before he could even properly enjoy the sensation, a flash in his peripheral caught his attention, and he looked up, his eyes glowing brightly at what he saw.

Dozens of lights were streaking across the clear sky in rapid succession—a meteor shower! The biggest meteor shower of the decade, and he had the most perfect view for it! His hands clasped around the thermos, staring up at the sky in awe.

He'd seen the sky plenty of times, Papyrus having shown him how to truly appreciate it, but now he was watching it MOVE, right above him! It all looked so close he could almost touch it...

Almost by instinct, he relaxed back, feeling almost like his soul was leaving his body, his plain, garbage body, to be one with the universe...

In one blink, hours condensed down to one moment, and the sky was still again. He slowly curled his hands to make sure they were working properly—indulging in the Blook family traditions often gave him a LITERAL out-of-body experience he had to be careful coming back to—and paused when his hand squeezed something instead of in on itself.

Papyrus's arm tightened around his shoulders, an orange glow on his cheekbones glowing in the darkness. Mettaton glanced down, and despite the blanket covering them both put a guess that his hand was circling around Papyrus's femur. Oh dear.

"Oh...I'm..." Mettaton stammered, letting go. "I didn't realize..." He trailed off, his face glowing pink and soul fluttering in its casing. Papyrus had eyelights glowing in his eyesockets, and Mettaton swore they were star-shaped.

"...I have to say, Mettaton...I was disappointed with tonight," Papyrus said suddenly. Mettaton blinked, frowning a little. THAT was...unexpected and...a little discerning.

"Oh..." he replied, his eyes going downcast. He made a move to lean back, but Papyrus's arm remained firm around his shoulders. Bony fingers slipped under his chin and tipped his head up, bringing eye-contact back between them.

"...Because I expected the show to be better." Papyrus's smile widened. "But that's hard to do when the brightest star was next to me the whole time."

The backseat was positively drenched in bright pink light as Mettaton's soul swelled with absolute JOY. Mettaton couldn't even stop himself from throwing his arms around Papyrus's neck, kissing the Skeleton hard.

The brief moment of hesitation he had at the action was dashed to pieces when Papyrus curled his arms around Mettaton's body and pulled him close enough for Mettaton to feel the Skeleton's soul fluttering in his rib cage. It was encouragement enough for Mettaton to throw caution to the wind and practically tackle Papyrus to the backseat, peppering his face and smile with kisses.

Papyrus held Mettaton to him, his magic giving Mettaton's lips a pleasant tingle. Mettaton nuzzled Papyrus's face in between kisses, his soul going from a flutter to a pulse that he was sure Papyrus could feel through their combined clothing layers. The implication made his face heat up more, wondering if he was pushing this a little too far. As though reading his mind and assuaging his worries, Papyrus slipped a hand up to cup the back of Mettaton's head, holding him in place for a longer kiss.

Mettaton's eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the pleasant tingle of Papyrus's magic against his lips. The tingle turned into a near-sting a second before something solid pressed against his lips. He opened his eyes to see the eyelight in Papyrus's right eye glowing orange, his tongue slithered out from between his teeth.

….oh yes, he could work with this.

Mettaton kissed Papyrus again, parting his lips to let the Skeleton's ectoplasmic tongue in, curling his own silicon tongue around it, the sensation like a constant first-crackle of biting into a pepper before the heat set in. He couldn't help the breathy moan from escaping, but by this point, he didn't even CARE.

The only sensation besides the tongue in his mouth he felt was his own soul pulsing wildly in its casing and Papyrus's soul fluttering in his rib cage. The fluttering was almost beckoning, and Mettaton's hands seemed to move on their own, sliding under Papyrus's jacket and shirt to brush along the floating ribs that curled out from his spine, which happened to be his most sensitive set.

Papyrus let out a high-pitched keen, his hands tightening into Mettaton's hair and coat but not with the intention of making him stop. Mettaton blindly ran his fingers along the ribs until his fingertips found Papyrus's spine, then ran them outward again and spider-crawled them up to the next rung.

A heavy vibration stilled his fingers, almost hearing the bones rattle when...oh god, was Papyrus GROWLING? The flutter in Papyrus's chest became a pulse like his own, a definite growling sound rattling the Skeleton's bones under his hands.

_Holy GOD, that was hot._

Papyrus's tongue retracted back into his mouth as he scraped his teeth along Mettaton's face and neck, the hand on Mettaton's jacket slipping down lower to run along the mech's thigh, squeezing hard as he went. Mettaton practically purred, leaning his head to the side to give Papyrus more access, his thigh twitching in the Skeleton's hold. He knew Papyrus had a near-fetish appreciation for his legs, and was more than happy to give him all the access he wanted to them.

Mettaton didn't know how long they spent in the backseat of the car feeling each other up, but it was before clothing actually came OFF in a bid to expose souls. Call him old-fashioned, but Mettaton preferred something like THAT to be done indoors, even as romantic as this setting was. He sat up off of Papyrus, his clothing wrinkled, hair a mess, and face almost completely pink.

Papyrus didn't look all that better, his shirt hiked up around his ribs, an orange flush on his cheekbones, and traces of ectoplasm still running from his mandible, but still looking about as starry-eyed as Mettaton felt. The two of them sat back, staring blankly up at the night sky, puffs of condensation coming from their mouths as they breathed.

"...that was fun," Papyrus said cheerfully. Mettaton couldn't help it; he burst into very undignified giggles, pressing his hands to his face.

"Ahhh...yes, Papy dear, it was..." he said after calming down. He leaned over and kissed Papyrus's cheekbone, smiling. "It was a fantastic evening, darling, really."

"I'm glad you liked it, Mettaton," Papyrus replied, taking Mettaton's hand and squeezing it tightly. "...Are you ready to go home now?"

"...I suppose I SHOULD," Mettaton said, turning his gaze back up to the sky. "...But the stars really DO look so lovely tonight..."

Papyrus kept his eyelights on Mettaton, curling his arm around the mech's shoulders. "...you certainly do," he said.


	6. The First Fight

As fantastic as things were with him and Papyrus, Mettaton wasn't naive enough to know that everything would be starshine and cherries. They definitely had their disagreements about things, like when Mettaton was offered a movie contract that would include a torrid love scene and Papyrus thought that Mettaton could do better, or when Papyrus had to cancel three dates in a row to cover some shifts and Mettaton threw a small fit, telling Papyrus that at SOME point, he had to stand up to that slave-driver Marco and give him a weekend off, for goodness sake!

But things like that were hardly FIGHTS...they were disagreements, anxieties that they talked through and made compromises with.

The first FIGHT came in December, a week before Christmas, when Mettaton was invited to a big celebrity Christmas Eve party. It was a big opportunity to network, and Mettaton accepted the invitation, excitedly telling Papyrus about it over a video-chat.

"...and THE biggest producer in the business is going to be there, Papy!" he gushed, beaming. "Oh, if I can just shake his hand and introduce myself, I can't even IMAGINE the doors this will open!" It took him a moment to realize that Papyrus hadn't congratulated him, or even said ANYTHING for the past few minutes. "...Papyrus, is the connection okay?"

Papyrus had an odd look on his face that Mettaton really hadn't seen before, his hands wringing in front of him. "...Mettaton..." he said slowly, "...that's Christmas Eve."

"...Yes, darling, I know. It's a Christmas Eve party." He frowned, leaning forward. "Papyrus, what's wrong?"

Papyrus sighed, rubbing his skull. "Mettaton, you KNOW that Asgore hosts a Christmas Eve party every year. You've been to ALL of them, every year. Why would you not go THIS year?"

Mettaton blinked, his brow furrowing. "Papy, dearest...this is different," he said, folding his hands in front of him. "I'm going to be among Hollywood's elite! This will be a HUGE boost for my career! I can go to Asgore's party next year—"

"It's not JUST Asgore's party, Mettaton!" Papyrus said sharply, taking Mettaton aback. "It's OUR party. And Christmas is a time for family and friends, and NONE of those people at that other party are!"

"Papyrus, you're being ridiculous!" Mettaton snapped, eyes narrowing. "If it's about being away from you, I can get you an invitation to come too—"

"Forget it!" Papyrus interrupted, reaching out to the screen. "See you New Year's."

The screen went black.

Mettaton sat back in his chair, his jaw slack in shock. _Papyrus just hung up on him._ He'd NEVER done that before, EVER! He pushed back from his chair, a swell of anger welling inside him as he stalked out of his room into the hotel gym, needing to burn off this body's instinctive need to DESTROY before he blew up a whole hotel.

* * *

He checked his phone at least fifty times a day, but there was no call or message from Papyrus.

Mettaton tried to rationalize to himself; Papyrus was being unreasonable! This was just a party! Mettaton could EASILY have taken Papyrus with him!

Ugh, if Papyrus was going to be an immature baby bones about this, then he was better off not taking him!

….well, come to think of it, since there WAS no reason for Papyrus to be this upset, then WHY was he this upset? Oh, he could call him and ask...

Oh why should he do that when Papyrus hadn't even sent him so much as an emoji for the past five days?

Back and forth like this he went, stubbornly forcing himself to put his phone down and LEAVE it down.

And then it rang.

He had it answered in .3 seconds. "Hello!?" he said, louder and more anxious than he ever wanted to sound in his life.

_"O-oh, hi, Mettaton...!"_

Oh, it was Alphys. Mettaton slumped back onto the couch, rubbing his temple. "Hello, Alphys..." he said, trying and failing to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "How are you, dear?"

_"I'm alright, Mettaton,"_ Alphys said, the frown almost audible in her voice. _"How are YOU though?"_

"Fine, just fine, never better!" Mettaton replied, forcing a smile onto his face. "Why ever wouldn't I be?"

_"...Mettaton."_

"...is it that obvious?"

_"When Papyrus has been walking around looking like his head is shoved in a rain cloud, it's pretty darn obvious,"_ Alphys said, sighing. _"He won't even go on runs with Undyne. He just goes to work, comes home, and sleeps. It's kind of freaking Sans out. He's not used to someone taking his shtick."_

Mettaton groaned, smacking a hand to his face. "Oh god..." he muttered, sitting up. "It's seriously that bad?"

_"If it makes Undyne chew her claws to the quick with worry, it's bad."_ Alphys sighed. _"...Care to fill us poor bystanders in on what's going on?"_

Mettaton rubbed his face, recanting the issue to Alphys exactly the way it went down. "...And then he hung up on me, Alphys! He's NEVER hung up on me! I just...I don't understand what I did WRONG!"

Alphys was quiet on the other end, but he could hear her contemplative claw-tapping on the desk she was sitting at. _"...Mettaton, did he tell you WHY he was upset about this arrangement?"_ she asked.

Mettaton sighed, rubbing his eyes. "...he said that it was a time for friends and family, and that I wouldn't be around either," he replied. "...I DID offer to take him with me, but...he just hung up."

_"...I think he thought you wanted to be with them more than us."_

"Oh Alphys, that's ridiculous—"

_"Mettaton. He thought you wanted to be THERE. Instead of HERE. With HIM. On a day he treasures as one to be spent with people he loves."_

Mettaton stewed on those words for a moment before getting the revelation. "...Oh," he said, sitting back hard. "Oh, Alphys, YOU know that's not—"

_"Mettaton, I know you're not like that anymore, and that you have a broader view of the world and more circles of people that you put importance in...but to a homebody like Papyrus...things like this are big deals. They might seem trivial, but to him, they're everything. And to be a part of HIS circle...his REAL circle...is a rare and special thing."_ There was a heavy pause. _"Look, I'm not trying to guilt you into anything like that. I KNOW how important THIS party is for YOU, and your career and your networking, and personally, as many times as you've let Papyrus's career priorities slide, I think he could throw you a bone on this one. It's just the really crappy timing, but I honestly think that he'll get over it."_

Mettaton closed his eyes, sighing softly. "...Thank you, Alphys," he said quietly. "Could you...could you tell him I said 'hi'? I don't think he'd pick up the phone if it were me calling."

_"Probably not,"_ Alphys concurred. _"It's kinda hard to get on a Skeleton's grudge, but when you do, they hold onto it. Even Papyrus. But when this is over, you'd best TALK to him, you got it? He's a rational guy."_

"Thank you," Mettaton said again, his lips twitching into a smile. "I'll see you New Year's Eve, Alphys. Say hello to Undyne for me." He said his goodbyes and hung up, sitting in the hotel room quietly, any anticipation for tomorrow's party not really feeling all that great anymore.

* * *

Despite being a key member of the extended 'family', only two people could tell the difference between Papyrus being genuinely happy, and Papyrus faking happiness. He was simply THAT good at acting, especially since a real part of him—the part that truly didn't want to worry anyone and keep the crowd cheerful—kept him smiling on.

Sans and Frisk knew when Papyrus was faking it. Sans knew because it was a look he himself kept firmly in place for years, and Frisk because they were heavily empathetic to the moods of all their family members.

Not to mention, they'd overheard the unfortunate video-chat conversation through Papyrus's door, having come home early from shopping. Hearing Papyrus upset was never a good thing, and for the past week, they wanted nothing more than to pull Papyrus aside and tell him that it was OKAY to be upset; however, with party preparation, and Papyrus picking up double shifts at the restaurant, they didn't really get around to doing so.

What they COULD do was keep Sans from stoking the fire, knowing the older of the brothers was looking for ANY reasons to drop-kick Mettaton into the nearest trash compactor. They told a little white lie that they thought Papyrus was just being overworked and 'slightly bummed' that Mettaton wasn't going to be there for the couple's first Christmas Eve, and that seemed to pacify Sans. For now.

Everyone was convened at Asgore's place for the traditional party and having a great time exchanging gossip and gifts to be opened later—though some Monsters couldn't help but open them that night—and moods were lightened up.

Even so, Papyrus was a little less loud, less enthusiastic than last year, which didn't go unnoticed by some. After a bit of mingling, Papyrus stepped outside in the cold air, still too used to Snowdin's weather to be bothered at all. Alphys stepped out some time later, bundled in not only her but also Undyne's coats for extra warmth.

"Hey, Papyrus," she said, sitting next to him. Papyrus, too drained from his charade all week, inclined his head in response. Alphys tucked her scarf tighter around her neck, squirming a little. "...Do you wanna talk about it?"

Papyrus sighed, crossing his arms. "...He KNOWS how important this is for me..." he said, his voice uncharacteristically tight and somber. "I...was going to show him off to everyone as my boyfriend...this is our first Christmas as a couple, and...he's not here."

Alphys reached over, patting his arm. "...Papyrus...you KNOW this doesn't mean he doesn't care," she said. "He's not doing this to hurt you."

Papyrus huffed, slumping on the bench. "...it sure enough FEELS like it," he muttered, though his voice was more hurt than petulant. "I just thought that...he UNDERSTOOD by now, Alphys!"

"He DOES understand, Papyrus," Alphys said. "But that doesn't mean HIS feelings should be hurt by you either. And not calling or messaging him all week IS a little hurtful."

"...Well, it's not like he tried either," he replied. Alphys sighed, rubbing her face. Her skin was starting to go numb.

"...He told me to tell you 'hi'," she said, hopping up from the bench. As supportive as she was trying to be, this weather was really getting to her. "...he didn't call because he didn't think you'd pick up anyway...but it sounded like he was having just as rotten a week as you from how much he misses you." She rested her hand on the doorknob. "...Call him. Be the bigger Monster about this, and it'll be over with faster. Alright?" She gave him a smile before heading inside.

Papyrus sat in silence for a few long minutes before slipping his cell phone out of his pocket and pressing Mettaton's number, listening to the ring before it went to voicemail. Words escaped him for once, and he sat through the recording silently for about eight seconds before clicking it off.

Mettaton was probably at that party right now, and couldn't even hear his cellphone ringing, if he even brought it at all. Papyrus put his phone back into his pocket, took a deep breath, and braced himself for another few hours with everyone before he had to go home.

* * *

Christmas morning was as cheerful an affair as always. Frisk and Papyrus had a shared tradition of getting up at the crack of dawn, peeking over the railing at the tree, and then waking up Sans and Toriel in the most obnoxious way possible.

Last year it was water balloons. Papyrus and Frisk ended up grounded for a week.

This year, he launched Frisk into the room with them screaming 'BONZAI', and Sans BARELY woke up in time to use his magic to keep Frisk from crashing into the sleeping pair.

"You're gettin' waaaaaaaaay too old to do that without crackin' a rib, kiddo," Sans said, trudging out of bed and walking out of the bedroom only to get a snowball lodged into his eyesocket from Papyrus.

"Maybe," Frisk said, skipping past him. "But YOUR reflexes are getting slow, old bones!"

After the snow was cleared and coffee was brewed, everyone sat down to open gifts. Toriel slipped to the kitchen to make the traditional cinnamon rolls with butterscotch icing as Papyrus gathered up the wrapping paper and picked up all the specks of the confetti that burst out of his gift from Sans.

"...Hey," Sans said, getting Papyrus's attention. "...You doin' alright, bro?"

Papyrus sighed, but gave Sans a smile. "...I am," he replied. "...Thank you, Sans." He finished bagging the wrapping, just as there was a soft knock at the door.

"I've got it," Frisk said, heading around the corner to open it. There was silence before they came back around, their lips twitching slightly. "Hey, Papyrus," they said almost conversationally, "there's a big shiny gift at the door with your name on it."

"For me?" Papyrus asked, smiling. "Oh, I wonder who it could be from!" They walked past Frisk and around the corner, pausing when he saw what was there.

Mettaton stood at the doorstep, wearing a little red dress with white trim, a matching cap, and black gloves and stilettos, holding a few boxes and looking more than a little sheepish.

"...Hey," he said, shifting a little on the doorstep. "...I...left the party early...so I could get a flight here...missed your call on the plane and all..." His cheeks turned pink. "...I brought gifts for everyone...if that's alri—"

The boxes almost went airborne when Papyrus rushed over and hugged him tightly, lighting up brighter than the house Sans obnoxiously decorated in early December. Mettaton shifted the boxes to one arm, curling his other around Papyrus's body tightly, kissing him softly.

"...I'm sorry, Papy," he said. "Next year, I'm all yours, and I'll put it in writing if you want me to."

Papyrus nuzzled his face, smiling. "...Give me Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, and the other is yours for whatever you need," he replied. "...I'm sorry you left your party early."

"Don't be," Mettaton said. "I'm right where I want to be."


	7. The First Time

The fight before Christmas (and Mettaton would forever curse Alphys for making that horrible pun) was a blessing in disguise for Mettaton. He had seen a life without Papyrus over a misunderstanding and lack of communication, and it was not a life he liked. He had been surrounded by fake relationships left and right at that party, and while he HAD networked as much as he was able...it still didn't feel REAL.

Even among glamour and beauty and all the luxury he ever once thought about, all he could think of was the simple beauty of last month, sitting in the backseat of a car with Papyrus, sipping hot chocolate and watching a meteor shower. And oh yes, what came after was MORE than wonderful.

What came after the fight was wonderful as well; after making up at the door, Papyrus tugged him inside and made Mettaton feel at home. Though his appearance was unexpected—and a little less to be desired, courtesy of Sans—Mettaton nevertheless made his good impression with his gifts. Frisk was thrilled with the gift card to their favorite clothing store—with more than a thousand dollars on it—and Toriel was touched that Mettaton brought his cherry pie recipe to have along with the cinnamon rolls. Even Sans couldn't complain about the new designer jacket; he apparently LIKED it, since he tugged it on and was still wearing it when Mettaton left.

As for Papyrus, Mettaton got him a kitchen apron; Sans almost commented on the gift until Papyrus saw that it was signed by three of his absolute favorite celebrity chefs, and let out a squeal only Greater Dog could hear, almost tackling Mettaton in a hug.

Mettaton had actually not noticed Papyrus hadn't gotten him a gift, until after Christmas dinner and Papyrus asked if he wanted to take a drive. A few miles downtown later, he led Mettaton into a club that catered to ballroom dancing, and told Mettaton that he'd been taking some lessons, in case Mettaton ever wanted to go somewhere where there would be dancing.

To be perfectly honest, three waltzes, a tango, and a samba later, Mettaton could NOT think of a better gift. By GOD, if Papyrus was a talented dancer! They left the club, thoroughly made up, in Mettaton's opinion.

That actually began a favored date night for them, going out dancing. It wasn't as often as either would like, what with early schedules and the need for consecutive off-days. But it was a great boost of luck that both of them got Valentine's Day and the day after off, to which Papyrus instantly suggested they go out dancing.

Valentine's Day was everything Mettaton liked; a day of over-the-top affection, gifts, attention, and commercialism. He had indulged in the holiday the first year up here onward, but until now, never had anyone to really SHARE it with. He waited with a fluttering soul all day with only sweet texts and promises of Valentine's Day surprises to tide him over until Papyrus finally texted that he was on his way over.

For going out dancing, Mettaton chose skin-tight black silk leggings and collared shirt under a pink button-up coat that trailed long in back almost like a dress. It made for a prettier sight when dancing with Papyrus. Less of a pretty sight when he was pacing around his living room like an adolescent waiting for Papyrus to arrive and almost running for the door when the doorbell rang.

Oh, goodness.

Papyrus stood at his doorstep with a bouquet of pink roses, wearing a neat black suit with a complimenting pink tie, his cheekbones turning orange when he saw Mettaton. "...You look dazzling, Mettaton," he said, beaming.

Mettaton took the roses, his own cheeks as pink as the roses. "And you look positively DASHING," he responded, leaning up and kissing his cheek. "I'll have to be drop-kicking EVERYONE away from you, sugarbones."

"Only the ones who aren't lining up to just be in your presence," Papyrus quipped back, but with a tone of sincerity that had Mettaton blushing harder. He offered his arm. "Shall we?"

Mettaton took his arm. "By all means, don't keep me waiting any longer," he said. "I've been daydreaming about being in your arms all day long, Papy." He giggled at the bright orange glow that nearly took up Papyrus's skull as he was walked to the car and let in.

The ride to the club was silent, but Mettaton found the quiet comforting. There was really nothing they needed to say, being content with one another. Still, Mettaton filled the silence by turning on the radio, feeling a sense of satisfaction that he was the only one Papyrus ever allowed to do so.

The evening was a contented blur was dancing, sitting with Papyrus at the table in the corner dining lightly, and having a few drinks. Although it seemed like any other night out dancing for Mettaton, there was a tinge of something...extra tonight. It wasn't just the holiday spirit, although that WAS a small contributing factor, but rather, he sensed it was something coming from Papyrus. The way he held Mettaton when they danced seemed different, the way he spoke seemed heavier, and even his movements seemed poised and prepared for SOMETHING...he just didn't know what.

Near ten o'clock, Papyrus held out his hand to Mettaton for another dance, and Mettaton took it, the music striking up a slow, soothing tune on cello and piano. It was a nice change of pace after the tango before dinner, and Mettaton was content to just let Papyrus lead in the slow dance.

Papyrus's fingers laced with his, the other hand resting firmly on his back, their chests a hair's breadth from touching. Mettaton squeezed Papyrus's hand, smiling. "Tonight's been wonderful, Papyrus," he said softly. "I couldn't think of anything better we could be doing right now."

His lips twitched when Papyrus's cheekbones turned a soft orange, the hand on his back flexing slightly. "...I can," Papyrus replied, and Mettaton felt that change in air AGAIN; Papyrus's voice seemed to have an underlying growl, his movements more drawn out and almost predatory. Mettaton felt his face heat up, his soul fluttering strongly in its casing.

"Oh?" he said, lightly squeezing Papyrus's shoulder through his jacket. "And what might that be?" His soul almost crashed against its casing when Papyrus's soul sent out a pulse against his chest.

"Doing this...but closer. In a bed."

Mettaton's legs almost collapsed out from under him, and only Papyrus's arm around him held him up. His eyes went wide as he stared up at Papyrus, words failing him completely. "I...you...you want to...?" he managed to sputter out, his face almost magenta pink by this point.

Papyrus's orange blush had spread to most of his face, but his expression was serious. "...If you want to," he replied. "I won't press the issue, but...if you want to...I want to be with you tonight."

Mettaton was stunned silent for a few long moments before he leaned up and kissed Papyrus hard, his soul thumping in its casing. "Yes," he said, his voice full of firm conviction. Papyrus squeezed his hand tightly, and then silently led the way out of the club and back to his car.

The whole ride back to Mettaton's place was silent, the inside of the car glowing with orange and pink lights from their respective hosts. For once, Papyrus didn't have both hands on the wheel, his right hand tightly clasped with Mettaton's as he nevertheless kept his eyes on the road.

In the blink of an eye, it seemed, Papyrus was parked and letting Mettaton out of his car, Mettaton latching onto Papyrus's hand again and he walked into his house, squeezing the Skeleton's hand tightly as he made his way straight to his bedroom.

In the seven months they had been together, Mettaton still hadn't really had Papyrus see into his bedroom, not even on a tour of the place. To him, his bedroom was his sanctuary, a place that differed from the rest of his house's décor. Rather than being overtly tidy, he allowed a tolerable state of disorganization to it. Gifts from friends and family were on display, much like Papyrus's toys back home, including—to his embarrassment at having forgotten—several plush toys on his bed.

His bed itself was the only real luxury in the room, besides his vanity; it was a four-poster king size, decked out with black and pink silk and Egyptian cotton sheets and pillows. Although he didn't really NEED the bed for its intended purpose—as a mech, Alphys's updated design had his energy running on nearly complete solar power and as a Ghost Monster he didn't NEED sleep—he enjoyed the sensation of it, often using it as a grounding point for Blook family traditions.

And now he was going to be using it for THIS.

It wasn't that he hadn't ever had sex before; being a natural craver for physical sensation, of course sex had been on the list of things he wanted to experience. He even had Alphys install sex organs into his form—both male and female variety—to get the full experience. But this was sex with someone he CARED about. In his bed. Getting undressed was nowhere near as intimate as doing so in his sanctuary.

Mettaton let out a silent whoosh of breath, trying to calm the thumping of his soul as he dialed down the dimmer switch, the room swathed in a soft pink light, although his and Papyrus's souls were making all the light they really needed by this point. He quietly unbuttoned his jacket and slid it down his shoulders and let it fall to the floor, his shirt following suit.

Papyrus—ever the neat nitpicker—folded his jacket neatly and put it down on the love seat, slipping his tie off to join it and unbuttoning his shirt, the orange glow of his soul almost illuminating the space he was standing in. Mettaton swore he could feel it pulsing from where he was standing, and like a moth to a flame, slipped closer and nuzzled at Papyrus's rib cage, pushing the Skeleton's shirt from his shoulders.

Papyrus's arms curled around him lightly, his bones vibrating when he emitted those growls that Mettaton couldn't help but go mad for, nuzzling the top of Mettaton's head. Mettaton pressed a kiss to Papyrus's sternum before stepping back, his feet twitching as he retracted his stilettos and slipped his leggings down, kicking them back to the rest of his clothing pile, hesitating for a moment before reaching up and manually detaching his chest plate and shoulder armor.

He immediately felt incredibly exposed without it, but if he was going to do this, he was going to do it RIGHT. He set the pieces down next to Papyrus's clothes on the love seat, then walked over to his bed and sat back on it, resisting the urge to cover his exposed torso with his arms.

Papyrus walked over to him, kissing him softly, his magic sparkling around Mettaton's lips as he leaned in closer, his hands resting lightly on Mettaton's exposed front, a soft spark of magic flickering between them. Mettaton yelped softly, his face heating up again as Papyrus leaned back.

"...too much?" Papyrus asked, his voice lighthearted but concerned. Mettaton shook his head, smiling.

"Just sensitive there, darling," he replied, curling his arms around Papyrus's neck. "I wouldn't mind if you did it again." He kissed Papyrus again, closing his eyes as he felt Papyrus's hands return to his front, phalanges gently prodding and stroking at the delicate metal and wires. His soul glowed brighter in its casing, pulsing strongly, almost insistently, for attention.

Without looking, Mettaton took Papyrus's hand and guided it lower until he had it rest on his hip, where a few latches kept a metal plating resembling a bikini in place. Without being told, Papyrus unlatched the metal pieces and pulled it off, letting it drop on the floor as he leaned back and looked down.

"...You have both?" was all he said.

Mettaton let out a snort of laughter, covering his pink face with one hand. "Yes, Papy, I do," he replied. "I wanted to...experience it different ways." He internally cringed; oh, what kind of person did that make him sound like?!

"Oh," Papyrus replied. "Makes sense. Smart thinking, Mettaton."

Wait, what?

"Although," Papyrus continued, his focus still on Mettaton's genitals, "I only have experience with this." He brushed his fingers over Mettaton's opening, making the mech's hips twitch hard. "...But I'm sure I can accommodate for whichever you prefer."

"...What?" Mettaton finally said, blinking hard. "...You've...done this before?" He was honestly surprised when Papyrus nodded.

"Once before," Papyrus replied, a look of embarrassment passing over his features. "...It wasn't...all that good, to be honest. But that's neither here or there." His fingers stroked over Mettaton's opening, Mettaton's face going pinker. "...Which way would you prefer?"

Mettaton's hips squirmed under Papyrus's touching, still trying to process that Papyrus HAD done this before, but wondering just HOW. "...w...which way are YOU better with?" he asked, trying not to buck right off the bed. "I'm VERY much willing both ways."

Papyrus pulled his hand away, undoing his belt and kicking his pants off. "Alright," he said, crawling over Mettaton, his right eyesocket flaring with orange magic. The ectoplasmic tongue was a familiar sight, but the ectoplasmic phallus now pressed to his thigh was not. Mettaton had no IDEA that Skeletons could do THAT with magic, and felt that he could smack himself for not thinking of it earlier.

"...This way is alright?" Papyrus asked, misinterpreting Mettaton's expression as one of wariness. "If not, I can—" He was shushed by Mettaton kissing him hard and pulling him closer.

"Oh sweetheart...this is PERFECTLY fine..." Mettaton purred, his soul visibly pulsing in its casing. He parted his thighs, curling one leg around Papyrus's pelvis. "Ready when you are, darling."

Papyrus kissed Mettaton again, his rib cage shuddering with growling as he pressed against Mettaton's opening. Mettaton's hips twitched hard, feeling the same spark of magic as he would from Papyrus's tongue, only BETTER. SO much better. He moaned around Papyrus's tongue, curling his arms around Papyrus and running his fingers over the Skeleton's spine, feeling Papyrus fill him up inch by inch.

Papyrus's whole frame seemed to be rattling from the growl vibrations and the pulsing of his own soul, a pulse that translated to the ectoplasmic formations, Mettaton was ever-so-pleased to find. His sensitive insides were tingling from the magic that was being put out, his soul hammering wildly in its casing, begging for stimulation. He rolled his hips upward, shivering when he heard Papyrus growl louder and press closer, his exposed chest being assaulted by the Skeleton's thrumming soul.

Papyrus hadn't even started to move yet, and already Mettaton was almost overwhelmed by the experience. Oh, this was MUCH better than with a human, SO much better. He tightened his arms around Papyrus's frame, kissing along his jaw and vertebrae where he knew Papyrus was sensitive, hoping for a reaction and was not disappointed. Papyrus growled again, pressing his rib cage flush against Mettaton's chest and thrusting his hips hard.

Mettaton yelped, almost arching off the bed from the simultaneous jolts of magic-induced pleasure. He dropped his head back onto the bed, his fingers clenching into whatever bone he could get a hold onto as Papyrus rocked into him hard, keeping an almost agonizingly slow pace.

Papyrus nipped along Mettaton's neck, dragging his tongue over every spot he bit at, making Mettaton twitch every time he did it. His hands groped along anything he could touch on Mettaton, his phalanges finding tiny sensitive crevices, small spots that would make Mettaton moan louder. His soul was pressing against his ribs, pulsing wildly, instinctively trying to find another soul to mate with.

Mettaton's hand trailed off Papyrus's spine and over the side of the ribs, threading his fingers through them, his fingertips just barely brushing over Papyrus's soul—

In a split second, he found himself pinned back, his body overheating with stimulation like crazy as Papyrus thrusted into him harder, his growling almost echoing through the room, it was so loud. Mettaton bucked under him, voice glitching out as he already felt his soul close to orgasm, the poor thing practically hurling itself against the casing. With what little self-control he had left, he willed the casing open, nearly screeching when his soul beelined for Papyrus's and the two met head-on, overwhelming them both.

Mettaton slumped back on the bed, panting hard as his body worked overtime into cooling down, definitely feeling his energy source nearly depleted. In this state, he would probably need a few hours with a backup source before he had the energy to go outside and gather some solar power.

After an unknown amount of time, he reconnected with his body's physical functions, raising a hand to his face to wipe his damp hair away. "...wowie," he said, figuring that only Papyrus's preferred term of exclamation could do that justice. He heard Papyrus mumble assent into his neck, noticing that the Skeleton hadn't moved. "...Are you alright, darling?"

"...just...try not to move..." Papyrus replied, his bones trembling slightly. "...I'm...trying to settle myself."

"...Settle yourself? What's that mean...?" Mettaton's hips twitched slightly, flushing softly when he found that Papyrus's ectoplasmic construct was STILL inside him. "...Um...sweetie...?"

Though Papyrus didn't move, Mettaton still heard his voice go almost sheepish. "...It's...really hard to make it go away...when I'm not... _satisfied_ ," he replied, his hand slowly clenching around the duvet next to Mettaton's head.

Mettaton's face went magenta. "OH." He chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment; he was way too depleted to help Papyrus with ANOTHER round, but didn't really know what would kill the mood.

….huh.

"...Well...can't say I'm up for another trip to the _bone zone_ , but I am just simply _bone_ tired, and I've got a Metta _TON_ of things to do tomorrow—"

"Okay, mood gone," Papyrus said quickly sitting up. The orange magic in his eye was flickering and dying, as were his constructs. His cheeks were still bright orange, from either afterglow or internal rage at his loathing for puns, Mettaton didn't know. "...But...it was good...right?"

Mettaton laughed softly, flopping back on the bed again. "Oh, Papy darling...you have no idea..." he said, smiling. He reached over and grabbed Papyrus's hand, squeezing it tightly. "It was amazing, Papyrus. Really."

Papyrus beamed, squeezing Mettaton's hand back. "I'm glad I met your standards, Mettaton," he replied.

 _'Met them? He shattered them to pieces...!'_ Mettaton thought, but just smiled, basking in the wonderful afterglow, feeling like all the sexual tension that had been building up around Papyrus for months just vanish. His only concern was the soft blip that was reminding him of his low energy reserves. "...Papy dearest, could you please...reach behind that pillow and—"

"Oh, of course!" Papyrus said, reaching back and taking out a cord, easily finding the insert point on Mettaton's side next to the soul casing, latching it in. "...better?"

"Much," Mettaton sighed, relaxing back. A side-effect of recharging like this was a mild sedative turn-off of most motor functions, since Alphys was concerned he'd hurt something if he was too active while the body recharged, so he normally rested whilst doing so. "...Care to just lie back and pretend we're garbage for awhile?"

Papyrus nodded, lying back next to Mettaton and staring up at the canopy of the bed. "...You're the prettiest garbage I know, Mettaton," he said, holding Mettaton's hand tightly. Mettaton beamed, closing his eyes.

"And you're the sweetest," he replied, settling down as they dozed off together.


	8. The First One To Say It

Although ten months went by and Sans was still nowhere close to warming up to him, Mettaton still enjoyed the time he spent with the rest of the family.

Frisk was always a delight, and Mettaton's favorite shopping buddy. He was sure he was spoiling the child rotten some days, but he figured Frisk more than deserved it with their double life as ambassador and (semi) normal schoolkid. Plus, he was just as invested in Frisk's growth as the others of their circle, and wanted to be as involved as he could be. If it meant Frisk was the most fashionable kid at school, as well as the most popular—no other kid could boast getting tickets to anything MTT-related that were the best and most exclusive—then he was happy to do so.

Toriel definitely warmed up to him after Christmas day, having swapped recipes with him after breakfast and continued to do so every now and then. She was also a great wealth of information when it came to Papyrus, being that the Skeleton lived in the same house as her, and was more than happy to lend her two cents on relationship advice.

Mettaton took the advice to heart as often as he could, never once thinking it lesser for her being divorced. Though his primary body had been originally built for eradicating humans, the idea now of having to take the souls of children turned his insides. Pair that with the trauma of losing one of your own, and he could definitely see there was no real way to salvage a relationship.

Still, he often wondered what on EARTH she saw in Sans.

"He's a very different person than what you're used to," Toriel told him, while out to lunch that lovely April afternoon. He had asked Toriel out to talk about...things, something he found himself doing whenever he was unsure about something concerning his and Papyrus's relationship. "He's very kind, very loyal, and one-hundred percent dedicated to his family." She smiled softly down into her drink. "...And he was a great source of comfort, during my time locked in the old ruins...he was the only other one I met that enjoyed a good pun like I did."

Mettaton's lips twitched; as much as they simply tolerated Sans, he couldn't help but enjoy listening to what the small Skeleton might REALLY be like one day toward him. "For how long?" he asked.

"Oh, let's see...time was so difficult to measure for me then...all of the clocks in the house had broken by that time, but it had to have been several weeks." She took a sip of her drink. "It might seem silly, feeling a connection through four inches of solid stone, and held together by puns and jokes...but it worked. I felt HAPPY, for the first time in a very long time...knowing that although it might seem sad to have a down-and-out Boss Monster lean against a door just to hear the wind blow to remind herself that there WAS an outside...that there was someone else on that outside who felt so lonely he had to sit in the snow by himself and practice knock-knock jokes on an old stone door."

Mettaton nibbled his lip thoughtfully, getting something of a new perspective of Sans. As much as the guy loved being a brother to Papyrus, he couldn't imagine him being SATISFIED with JUST that prospect and nothing else. Papyrus once told him that back Underground, Sans had several part-time jobs that he would disappear to, and when not there, he had Grillby's to go to. So there was a brother, work, and unwinding at the end of the day, but...not much else.

"...It does seem pretty sad," he concurred. Toriel laughed softly.

"Oh...not as much of a sorry mess as I felt when I realized I had fallen in love with someone I didn't know the name of, or the face of," she replied. She took another sip of her drink, then paused, seeing Mettaton's troubled expression. "...Mettaton?"

Mettaton's hands clasped together tightly. "...How do you know...when you're in love?" he finally said, his cheeks turning pink. "Like...REALLY in love?"

There was a pregnant pause before Toriel laughed, running a hand down her face. "Oh goodness," she said, smiling. "I used to wonder that myself, to be honest." She folded her hands on the table, giving Mettaton a soft look. "It happens when you take away the gifts, the dates, and even spoken words and them actually BEING there, and you still feel the same about them."

She sighed. "To me...it was after Frisk had left, and I was sitting against the door, thinking...thinking that this was it...that Frisk was another child I was going to lose. I started crying...and then I heard a soft knocking on the door...and I heard him say 'knock knock'. So I say...'who's there?', even though I really didn't think a joke could help. He said 'safe'. I say 'safe who?'. And he says...'no punchline, they're safe'."

Toriel rubbed her damp eyes. "You see...earlier before...I had asked him to please protect the next child that came through. He...never actually promised anything...but hearing that..." She smiled happily. "Oh, I knew for sure that's when I was in love. I couldn't just sit by anymore, so I opened that door...but he was gone. I didn't see him again until the end of all that, but just hearing his voice...oh, who even cared that he barely came up to my midriff? The light of my solitude was there...and that was that."

Mettaton sniffled, dabbing at his eyes. "Oh my," he said. "That's beautiful." He sat back, sighing as he smiled. "...I think I may...REALLY be in love with Papyrus."

Toriel beamed, clasping her hands together. "Oh, that's just marvelous!" she beamed. "I KNEW you two would be!"

"...you did?"

"Mettaton, Papyrus snuck back into the house at six-thirty in the morning after Valentine's Day. I think it was pretty obvious what you two were doing, and he said he'd only do that with someone he loved."

Mettaton's face went magenta, pressing his hands to his cheeks. "...he...really said that...?" he murmured, mostly to himself. "That...he...?"

"It's...obvious he feels very VERY strongly about you," Toriel said, smiling. "I won't put words into his mouth...but before you two started dating, that's what he said about the matter."

"Oh my goodness...and HE was the one who propositioned ME...!" Mettaton said, fanning himself a little. "Oh, but that was in February, and even though we've done it again since, he still hasn't said anything..." He rubbed his face. "What if he does? What if he DOESN'T? What if—"

"What if you just told him?" Toriel said, looking mildly amused. "Mettaton...you're overthinking it by wondering what to SAY. How do you FEEL?"

Mettaton sat back hard, rubbing his temples. "...I feel...like when I first got my physical body," he replied quietly. "...I was...overwhelmed for WEEKS...figuring out every little thing about myself...about what I was capable of...trying new things, putting myself out there, feeling stage fright my first broadcast..." He smiled softly. "I felt like my soul was going to explode...because I was so scared but so...HAPPY...I was...HOME. That's...what I feel when I'm with Papyrus, even doing something as mundane as sitting on a park bench to people-watch. I'm home."

Toriel smiled. "That's what love feels like," she said. "It feels like home, no matter where you are. That's how I feel about Sans, and how he feels about me."

Mettaton smiled back, his face still pink. "...well...Papyrus has never made a habit of not saying how he feels," he said. "I suppose I should take a page out of his book."

"Good," Toriel said, nodding as she took another sip of her drink. "So. How is it in the Bone Zone?"

It was completely worth getting cherry daiquiri spewed on her, it really was.

* * *

Mettaton tried to keep his mind clear as he passed the basketball to Papyrus, busy playing two-on-two with him, Frisk, and Undyne. Frisk made mention of joining the basketball team—after practically being begged to by the coach, after seeing how well Frisk could dodge and sneak the ball away from another player in the blink of an eye—and Papyrus and Undyne INSISTED they get them into peak prowess for tryouts.

Being pretty decent at the sport himself, Mettaton had offered to be the fourth player, which was making this practice all the more interesting. Frisk was still petite as they always had been, so it was easy for them to weave between taller players—what with Mettaton, Undyne, and Papyrus all being over six feet tall—and it was tricky getting the ball from them once they had it, and pair that with Undyne as her partner, who was a powerhouse trick-shot with the ball, and Mettaton felt he and Papyrus had their work cut out for them.

Lucky for them, Mettaton's flexibility and Papyrus's speed and height were their advantages, and it was all the easier to keep the ball from Frisk when the overhead-passed so they couldn't reach.

"I still think I should train using Papyrus's Blue Attack," Frisk said between grabs for the ball. "It's like weight training, you know?"

"We'll have the weight training later!" Undyne said, snatching the ball from Papyrus's toss. "For right now, let's beat Paps and Princess so we can LORD IT OVER THEM FOREVER! FUHUHUHU—" Undyne was cut off when Mettaton jumped up to block the shot to the basket, landing neatly on his ever-present stilettos.

"Sorry, Undyne dearest," he said, twirling the ball on his finger. "But brute strength has NO place in a sport that requires agility." He smirked, tossing the ball over his shoulder, where it landed through the net.

"OH, YOU DIRTY CHEATER!" Undyne screeched. "Alright then, Princess Bubblegum, one-on-one, you and me! First to net takes VICTORY!"

Mettaton grinned. "Never thought I'd see the day when Undyne was ready to LOSE," he quipped back, grabbing the ball again.

"...I thought they were supposed to be training me," Frisk said, though not complaining in the least.

"When Undyne's in a mood, it's best to just let her sweat it out," Papyrus replied sagely. "Want to get some Nice Cream?"

"Sure."

While the other two walked off, Undyne narrowed her eye at Mettaton, hands flexing as Mettaton dribbled the ball back and forth between his legs before taking a shot. Undyne jumped and grabbed it, rushing for Mettaton's basket. "BETTER MOVE YOUR ASS, PRINCESS!" she shouted, shouldering Mettaton out of the way as she took a shot.

Mettaton leaped up, barely managing to bat the ball out of the air before landing, accidentally-on-purpose tripping Undyne up. "Cheap shot for a cheap shot," he said, fetching the ball again. "Care to make it more interesting?"

By the time Papyrus and Frisk came back with their Nice Cream, the basketball court had turned into an enclosed battlefield with Undyne tossing spears at Mettaton, who blasted them out of the way and attacked back with well-placed kicks, the ball passing between them depending on who had the advantage at the moment.

Undyne formed a wall of spears as Mettaton rushed her, snickering when the mech crashed into them. "Hope I didn't smear your makeup, Mettaton!" she laughed, making a dart for the basket.

Mettaton leveled the spears with a swinging kick, glowering. "Oh honey, you just flipped my Bitch Switch," he growled, flexing his arm, the metal plating shifting until it reformed into a small canon, firing it at Undyne.

Undyne yelped when a shot hit her leg, stumbling hard, the ball going airborne. As Mettaton rushed her, she threw up her hand, a spear shooting up from the ground. Her short-lived victory was spoiled when Mettaton jumped, his foot bracing on the very tip of the spear, then used its trajectory to launch off, grab the ball, and dunk it into the net.

Mettaton let go of the basket, landing neatly on his stilettos, his canon shifting back into his arm. "I believe I claim victory in the name of Team Papyrus!" he said, smirking. Undyne didn't even have time to react before Papyrus rushed forward and scooped Mettaton up, twirling him around.

"THAT WAS AMAZING!" he shouted, holding Mettaton up in the air. "SO amazing and SO epic, I LOVE you!"

He froze, Mettaton froze, and Undyne and Frisk froze. There was a heavy silence for a long moment before Mettaton reached out and held Papyrus's skull in his hands, pulling himself down and kissing him hard before leaning back.

"Not as much as I love YOU, Papy," he replied back.

Papyrus let out a high-pitched squeal of happiness, hugging Mettaton tightly and kissing him again.

"...This looks like it'll take awhile," Frisk said, holding up a Nice Cream cone. "Want one?"

Undyne took it, licking it with almost a pout on her face. "...Bucket of bolts TOTALLY cheated," she muttered, but her eye gleamed with the look that only a soundly-beaten warrior in a sparring match could have. "Buuuut, I guess he's alright."

Frisk nodded, smiling. "He really is," they said, then blushed, turning away. "PAPYRUS, I'M PRETTY SURE THAT WHAT YOU AND METTATON ARE DOING BORDERS ON ILLEGAL IN THIS PARK!"

"I MUST PROTECT YOUR INNOCENCE!" Undyne shouted, grabbing Frisk and running off.

Papyrus and Mettaton broke off before things escalated further. There was always later that night.


	9. The First Anniversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a little bit of a hiatus, but the muse is back! :D

Mettaton didn't even know that almost a whole year had passed until Alphys brought it up during a maintenance check before she was to leave on a two-week science convention. He was recanting a story about Papyrus's dog—the same overly-attached Pomeranian from the human world that enjoyed stealing his bones in the Underground and despite multiple attempts to relocate her, she kept coming back—that chased after Catty in the park, and Alphys couldn't help but giggle.

"All of your favorite dates seem to come from the park, Mettaton," she said, smiling. "Seems like just yesterday you and Papyrus were having your first date there, and now it's almost your anniversary!"

Mettaton froze, eyes going wide. "...oh my god, Alphys!" he gasped, jumping up from the table, Alphys's screwdriver going airborne. "IT'S ALMOST OUR ANNIVERSARY! HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN!?"

Alphys flailed for her tools, yelping. "M-Mettaton, calm down!" she cried. "Chill out, really it's not like you MISSED it...!"

"But I ALMOST did!" he wailed. "Oh, what kind of boyfriend AM I!?"

Alphys sighed, patting his back comfortingly. "...the kind that loves his boyfriend and values their time spent together so much he doesn't NEED to keep track because anniversaries aren't as important as the relationship itself?" she replied, smiling. "Mettaton, I know for a fact that Papyrus wouldn't care if you forgot or remembered or anything. He's in it for YOU, not for how long he can keep it up."

Mettaton sighed, sitting back down. "Be that as it may, Alphys...it's almost been a whole YEAR," he said, wringing his hands. "I've...never had any kind of relationship last this long...so...this sort of...IS a big deal, for me."

Alphys sat down next to him. "...you know, Undyne told me that Papyrus never had more than one date with someone," she said. Mettaton nodded; Papyrus had told him that himself after their first date. "And for someone as passionate as Papyrus...you can kind of imagine what a bummer that must have been."

Mettaton chewed his lip, thinking back to the first couple of months dating Papyrus, correctly thinking that Papyrus was someone who was loathe to waste time and effort on something...he could just imagine the disappointment Papyrus must have felt, getting his hopes up only to find another dead-end relationship...and suddenly the Skeleton's surprise at Mettaton asking for another date made so much more sense.

"...The point is," Alphys continued, wringing her hands, "...Papyrus is in this for the long haul...and from what I've seen, so are you. Right?"

Mettaton nodded, smiling softly. "...I am," he replied. "...He makes me happy, Alphys...happier than I've ever been before. If this goes on forever...I honestly wouldn't mind in the least."

Alphys sniffled, dabbing at her eyes. "IF YOU TWO GET MARRIED, I WANT TO BE MAID OF HONOR!" she wailed.

"Alphys, for god's sake—!"

* * *

It was July 16th, his anniversary day, and Mettaton had no effing clue what he wanted to do to commemorate it.

He had been up all night thinking of SOMETHING, but being honest, he didn't know what to do that hadn't already been done, other than a cruise or a vacation, but this was a busy time at Papyrus's work so they couldn't do THAT.

Mettaton wanted this to be SPECIAL, but he was coming up with a blank. He told himself that Papyrus honestly didn't care, that their relationship was special enough, but it was the principle of the matter!

He was flopped back on his bed, staring up at the canopy, mulling over his options, and so far thinking that a great session of lying back and pretending to be garbage was so far the most attractive prospect. It was working wonders for him right now, that was sure.

Oh, who was he kidding? What else could he contribute? So far it had been Papyrus doing all the planning and great surprises in this relationship, he was absolute BUNK at this! What kind of boyfriend was he, getting all the perks of the romance and hardly putting forth the initiative himself? Ugh, he really WAS garbage...what was the greatest person EVER doing with a pile of junk metal like—

 _Ooooookay, MTT, dial it back a notch_ , he told himself, sitting up. He wasn't garbage, he wasn't junk, he was METTATON: Superstar, Idol, Boyfriend. And he could DO this. He just had to think.

Papyrus appreciated simple but thoughtful...small gestures with a big statements...

...and oh, how those simple things could lead to the BEST bedroom—or backseat—moments ever. Ah, if only Sans could know what a naughty boy his little brother REALLY was...

Okay, cool down, that can come after. First things first.

After several more minutes of mulling, inspiration struck. He hopped out of bed and hurried out of his room; he had just hours to prepare before Papyrus would arrive!

* * *

Papyrus arrived, punctual as always at six-thirty sharp, the same time as when their first date began. He let himself in, looking around for Mettaton, and noticed that the place had dimmed lights all around, and smiled to himself. Mettaton could be a real romantic when he wanted to be.

"Mettaton?" he called through the house softly. "I'm here!"

From further back in the house, Mettaton answered, "I'm back here, darling!", and Papyrus followed the voice back to the rec room.

"What are you doing back here, Mettaton?" Papyrus asked, peeking in. "I didn't bring any movies to..." His voice trailed off when he saw Mettaton, his cheekbones glowing orange.

Mettaton was standing back by the couch, his body armor completely off, save for his bikini-like codpiece. His visibly-nervous stance was obviously meant to be coquettish, but came off more bashful than anything. Mettaton never took his armor off like this outside of the bedroom, and didn't even like to be present in his body when Alphys had to take it all off to work on it.

"...I...made dinner," he said, trying not to cover his exposed front up. "...I also pulled some strings and got an early copy of that movie you liked." He paused, feeling that if he was capable of sweating, he'd be doing it. "...or, if you had other plans, we can—"

He was cut off when Papyrus crossed the room in two strides and hugged him tightly, nuzzling the top of his head. "Oh, Mettaton, it's wonderful!" Papyrus exclaimed, and Mettaton could HEAR the beaming in his voice. He stroked Mettaton's back as the mech rested his head on Papyrus's sternum, both enjoying the closeness before Papyrus pulled back slightly. "...Might I ask...why your armor is gone...?" he asked delicately.

Mettaton's face went pink. "...I just..." he murmured, tightening his hands into Papyrus's shirt. "...I feel...perfectly safe when I'm with you, Papyrus..." He leaned his head against Papyrus's rib cage, feeling the soul fluttering underneath. "...and I know you'll never hurt me...I trust you with my life, Papyrus..." He reached back, lacing his fingers with Papyrus's. "...I love you, Papyrus."

Papyrus's hand squeezed around Mettaton's, kissing the top of his head lightly. "And I love you, Mettaton," he responded. "You're simply my brightest star." He smiled at the brighter pink Mettaton's face went before stepping back. "You said you made dinner?"

"Oh...yes!" Mettaton said, fighting back more blushing as he led Papyrus over to a table next to the couch. "I had to get several different versions from Undyne, Toriel, and Frisk, but I THINK I nailed the recipe down just right."

Papyrus beamed and Mettaton swore he heard the Skeleton squee when he saw the neatly-plated spaghetti, and just hoped that the extra spaghetti he had set aside wouldn't be put to waste. He sat down with Papyrus, putting in the movie and pressing PLAY as he leaned back and started on his own pasta, almost choking on the noodles when he saw Papyrus taking off his shirt. "Um...Papy dear...?"

"Well, you feel comfortable without YOUR covering," Papyrus said, shrugging as he put his shirt over the back of the couch neatly. "I'm just showing that I feel the same way."

Mettaton's cheeks remained pink through the movie and the dinner, of which Papyrus had four more helpings of, and Mettaton was SURE it wasn't just to be nice. Bit of an ego-booster, but he wasn't complaining. The movie wasn't half-bad either. Mettaton wasn't that much of a fan of action movies—he suspected Papyrus liked them for the explosions and high-speed car chases—but this one had a decent storyline that kept him interested.

So interested, in fact, that he wasn't even aware that he was snuggling into Papyrus's rib cage until the credits rolled, and noticed Papyrus's arm around him, the tips of his phalanges brushing against his exposed torso just enough to be felt, but not disturbing anything.

This was...nice. Awkward at first, but now it was nice and comfortable...and safe.

He cuddled closer, his cheeks dusted pink as he reached beneath Papyrus's rib cage and traced his fingers over the vertebrae of the spine, shuddering slightly when he felt Papyrus's frame vibrate with low-pitched growls that he had come to know as a Skeleton's response to arousal. He leaned up and kissed over Papyrus's face, brushing over a floating rib.

Papyrus's hands busied themselves with Mettaton's own frame, deliberately skipping over the more sensitive exposed areas. He hated and loved how Papyrus could tease him so perfectly, but then again, he knew a few underhanded tricks of his own, like turning his hands over and stroking the underside of Papyrus's rib cage all the way to the back of his sternum. To be honest, seeing the look on Papyrus's face and feeling his soul pulsing violently, being wrist-deep in Skeleton chest area, looked as good as he was sure Papyrus felt.

Papyrus's hands clenched into Mettaton's bikini casing, easily unclasping it and dropping it carelessly to the floor, growling louder as he pulled Mettaton closer, kissing him hard. Mettaton's frame shuddered, his soul pulsing in its casing as he pulled his hands out of Papyrus's rib cage, curling his arms around Papyrus's neck.

"Papy darling..." he purred, nuzzling Papyrus's face. "...I have another surprise for you..." He leaned back a little, smothering a giggle at the frustrated 'nyeh' Papyrus whined. "I had Alphys give me a little...backup energy storage." He blushed a vibrant pink. "...I wouldn't want to leave my sugarbones _unsatisfied_."

Oh goodness, that bright orange spark in Papyrus's eye would be a harbinger of things to come for AGES...

* * *

It was in the middle of the morning before Mettaton's systems finally kicked back on. He took a few long moments to remember all of last night, and smothered down the giddy blushing and giggling of the memory, SO glad that Alphys gave him that extra storage to last through Papyrus's satisfaction.

Three times. He didn't know WHY it was three, but by god was he glad he was able to finally see Papyrus satisfied, and had a greater respect for Toriel, if this was Skeleton standard fare.

He smiled brightly, petting his hand on Papyrus's skull, which was resting on his soul casing as he slept. If Papyrus was in no hurry to get up, neither was he.

...now if only he could remember how Papyrus's pants got on the chandelier...


	10. The First Born

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place at a time skip; to fill in the gaps, read "Some Things Better Left Alone", "The Real Reason Why", and "A Beautiful Day For a Wedding". To also get some context, read "Where Do Monster Babies Come From?".

Even years down the line, Mettaton and Papyrus still didn't know how it happened.

It was almost two years into their marriage, and things were just as wonderful as they both had hoped it would be. It was just like when they were dating, save that they were now living in Mettaton's primary home close by everyone else, and that beautiful rings adorned their fingers.

Having Papyrus all to himself full-time was a dream for Mettaton. The 'honeymoon phase' had been ongoing since they became steady, in his opinion, and it didn't fade even through the actual honeymoon and the process of living together. Although it wasn't financially necessary, Papyrus insisted that he wanted to keep working at Marco's, which in turn was a serendipitous move. Being the spouse of a high-profile celebrity drew more customers into the restaurant, and business boomed. Even critics who didn't take celebrity status into consideration when critiquing food had nothing but good things to say about Papyrus's direction in the kitchen.

Within the first year of their marriage, all of the good publicity had offers pouring in for Papyrus, but the one he took was taking the restaurant over from Marco, and Mettaton had never seen him happier. Papyrus was doing wonders with the restaurant, and the customers and critics alike loved it.

Not much outside the realm of the usual fare occurred, save for a very simple marriage ceremony between Sans and Toriel—done entirely in puns, to Papyrus's eternal suffering—and Mettaton winning an Oscar, and things were content.

And then things went...askew.

It shouldn't have been anything big. It was just a lunch with a magazine journalist, and it was going well, talking about his career and his marriage, and then the woman had asked,

"And what about any plans for children?"

Ooh. Curve ball.

He managed to convey that he had not taken it into consideration but it wasn't ENTIRELY out of the question, and then quickly changed the subject, though the idea was stuck in his mind for the rest of the day.

Children had never come up in a conversation with Papyrus...well, HAVING them, anyway. Having THEIRS. He wasn't even sure they even COULD, to be honest. But now the idea was stuck in the back of his mind, and the worry must have shown on his face because Papyrus dropped his plans for dinner and INSISTED they go out for the evening.

It was one of the little things Mettaton learned by now; 'date night' was still what he said when they went somewhere for dinner or entertainment. 'Going out' meant Papyrus was throwing together something impromptu and taking the convertible.

Lucky for them, the sky was clear, the air was cool, and Papyrus's special hot chocolate was as good as ever as they did some stargazing and music-listening while pretending to be 'glittery garbage'.

Papyrus always knew just what to do to make all of Mettaton's worries go away. He sipped his hot chocolate and cuddled against Papyrus, not even minding when some clouds came in with the autumn breeze to block out the stars. Papyrus curled his arm around Mettaton, smiling. "...feeling better?" he asked.

Mettaton nodded. "I am," he sighed. "Thank you, darling." He closed his eyes, resting his head on Papyrus's shoulder, relaxing for a few moments before twitching when he felt something small drop on him. "...um...what's—" He yelped when a rapid drizzle began to fall. "Oh goodness—!"

Papyrus practically dove over the seat to press the button that put the hood back up, almost getting stuck between the two front seats. Mettaton tugged him free, pulling him back to the rear seat with him, wiping his wet hair from his face before bursting into hysterical giggles that Papyrus joined in with until they were both in stitches in the back seat.

The laughter turned to sputters of humor in finding something to help them both dry off, which turned into stripping off wet clothing, which turned into touching, and kissing, and Mettaton remained grateful to Alphys for giving him a much more energy-efficient form, because once his hands met ribs, it was obvious they weren't leaving this cliff anytime soon.

* * *

Early the next morning was a time of odd observations, like how on earth Papyrus managed to sleep comfortably crammed in the backseat despite being seven feet tall. The Skeleton was peacefully dozing despite having obviously accommodated himself so Mettaton had the better sleeping space. The gesture itself paired with the always-cute expression of him sleeping never failed to make Mettaton smile, and he couldn't help but snuggle closer. They could use a day off, anyway.

Resting his head on Papyrus's rib cage, he couldn't help but feel a strong fluttering sensation of Papyrus's soul, something that he never felt before when Papyrus was simply sleeping. He brushed his hair from his eyes and sat up a little, peering down at Papyrus's abdomen and frowned when he saw something he'd never seen before.

From xiphoid to pelvis was a transparent orange covering almost like skin that wrapped around his whole frame, creating a torso of sorts.

Odd.

It wasn't disturbing Papyrus, though, so Mettaton chalked it up to some odd Skeleton thing and rested himself back down, putting it out of his mind for the time being.

It wasn't nothing. Of course it wasn't.

Papyrus had noticed it briefly when he woke up and began picking around for his clothes, but said nothing. Mettaton wasn't too surprised there; Papyrus wasn't 100% aware of his surroundings until at least an hour after waking up. However, the ride back home was contemplatively silent, and Mettaton could see his hands flexing into the steering wheel the whole time.

Once they were home, Papyrus locked himself in the bathroom for fifteen minutes before Mettaton knocked on the door and asked if he was alright. Papyrus walked out, his expression unreadable as he told Mettaton to please call Alphys and his brother.

The rest of the morning was a blur of calls, and recalls since Sans wouldn't get up before nine on a Saturday if you paid him his weight in ketchup, but he was still the first to get there, beelining for Papyrus since the tone was more urgent than Mettaton wanted it to be.

"What is it, Paps?" Sans asked, trying to sound like he wasn't freaking out himself. "D'you think you're sick or something?"

Papyrus said nothing, but instead held the hem of his shirt in one hand and lifted it, exposing his orange-shaded abdomen. Whatever that was supposed to mean for Skeletons obviously meant something BIG, because Sans just stared for several moments before passing out on the floor.

Luckily, Alphys had arrived and went right for Sans, despite the call being for Papyrus, making sure that the elder Skeleton was alright before turning to Papyrus. Mettaton readied himself to catch Alphys if SHE fell too as Papyrus repeated his shirt-lifting, but he wasn't expecting the high-pitched scream she let out.

Horrible scenarios ranging from crippling illness to impending death ran through Mettaton's mind, but those were put to a halt when she realized that this wasn't Alphys's 'horrified' scream, it was her 'OMG' scream.

"OH MY GOD!" she shouted, pressing her hands to her face and jumping in place. "I CAN'T BELIEVE IT, PAPYRUS!" She reached out, clasping his hands tightly. "You HAVE to tell me how—oh, who am I kidding, we KNOW how, I want to know WHEN—! Oh, this is AMAZING!"

Papyrus gave her a tentative but genuine smile. "Er...it was last night, actually," he replied. "It's a pretty quick process, but..." He trailed off, giving Mettaton a side glance.

Mettaton was at his wit's end by this point, and close to tearing his hair out. "Could one of you PLEASE tell me what's going on and spare me the thoughts that Papyrus might be hurt?" he asked, trying to keep the demanding diva out of his voice. Alphys looked almost SCANDALIZED.

"You didn't even TELL him!?" she cried. "For goodness sake, Papyrus, you give FRISK that Talk but you didn't give it to Mettaton? In ALL this time you've known each other...!"

"ALPHYS. Less commentary, more explanation, if you please," Mettaton said, massaging his temples.

"Oh. Sorry," Alphys said, blushing. "...Mettaton, Papyrus is carrying a baby soul."

* * *

...At least Sans couldn't make fun of him for fainting, in this situation.

After everyone was recovered and Alphys had some tea ready to calm nerves all around, Mettaton was given the crash course in Skeletal procreation, with emphasis on Skeletons, unlike most Monsters, needing 100% soul bonding for it to truly work, as well as an intent for children.

Mettaton was magenta in the face, realizing that having children on his mind during that night had bled the intent into his soul, and it took him a good while to remember that the intent to procreate had to be MUTUAL. So while Alphys was getting more tea and Sans was rummaging around for something to cure his migraine, Mettaton addressed that point to Papyrus. "...you want children?" he asked Papyrus delicately.

Papyrus had a dusting of orange around his cheekbones, his hands wringing anxiously. "...I do," he replied quietly. "...I have. For years."

"...years?" Mettaton repeated. "...Papyrus, we've hardly been married for two..." His cheeks warmed at the implication. "...you've...wanted children since before we were married?"

Papyrus nodded. "Yes," he replied. "...But I didn't bring it up. It's not exactly something you WOULD bring up when you're still dating...and in any case, I didn't know if it would be a deal-breaker for you, and I didn't want to mess up what we had by ASSUMING anything..." One of his hands absently trailed to his abdomen, pressing at the now-solid mass that created a torso. "But it's...been on my mind for awhile..."

Mettaton took his free hand, squeezing it tightly. "Papyrus, I wasn't even sure we could even HAVE children!" he said. "That's why I never really brought it up..." He let out a weak laugh, rubbing his face with his free hand. "...but someone asked if children were in my future...and that's suddenly all I could think about. And now this..." He laughed again, somewhat sobbingly. "...Oh my god, Papyrus...we're going to be parents...!"

Papyrus wiped at tears running down his face, beaming. "We're going to be parents," he repeated back, sounding much happier now that Mettaton seemed on board with the idea. Mettaton smiled, hugging Papyrus tightly, and all they both could do for the longest time was hold each other and cry.

* * *

Sans proved to be the biggest help of all through the ordeal. He explained that Skeleton pregnancies only lasted a few months—five to six, typically, depending on the Skeleton—and that it was perfectly normal for Papyrus to have any mood changes to suit the situation.

"Skeletons only have ectoplasm to protect the baby soul," Sans said as he helped Mettaton gather up a cartload of pasta from the grocery store; Papyrus had been eating pasta in quantities that shattered even Papyrus levels. "So it's typical for Skeletons to be defensive and super protective. It won't be SO bad, at least until the last month. Then I'm pretty sure he'll only let you an' me anywhere NEAR him."

"Why you and me?" Mettaton asked, as Sans shucked a bottle of ketchup into the cart.

"Because you're the other parent," Sans replied. "You're his mate. And I'm his brother. Family ties were EVERYTHING to Skeletons, down to the soul. Which you two created with magic from your own. That makes you family."

Mettaton smiled softly, heading off for another aisle. "You could write greeting cards, that was so sweet," he said, only half-teasing.

"Pay for my ketchup and I'll write you a damn sonnet if you want." He tossed in another ketchup bottle. "And that was just the actual pregnancy. Just wait until after it's BORN..."

Oh dear.

* * *

Sans wasn't kidding about Papyrus being defensive and overprotective. After much urging from both Sans and Mettaton, he finally took a hiatus from his restaurant, leaving several trusted employees in charge—but still insisted on doing the paperwork via email—and mostly remaining at home, and for Mettaton, not a day too soon.

Papyrus had become an anxious mess, everything he did being careful and calculated, rather than with his usual zeal, and practically going into hiding anytime someone came to the house. The only time he was relaxed was at night, when it was just him and Mettaton and his Pomeranian in the house and things were quiet, or when Sans came over just to talk over tea and hang out.

Mettaton suspected that Sans was the better company during these times; although Mettaton was doing everything Sans instructed to the T, Sans was still both a Skeleton and Papyrus's brother, which automatically put Papyrus at further ease.

But one thing Mettaton could boast for himself was that Papyrus never exposed his abdomen to anyone except for him. When the house was empty and everything was quiet, Mettaton and Papyrus would lay back in bed and just stare at Papyrus's abdomen.

The ectoplasmic abdomen had thickened while remaining transparent, showing a growing mass of a thicker ectoplasmic 'egg' that glowed softly with the fledgling soul inside. Mettaton would stare at that glow for hours while Papyrus slept, marveling over the fact that he had helped create that new life...and that soon it would be strong enough to not need Papyrus to stabilize and continue living, and that he could hold the new Monster in his arms soon.

Nobody knew what it was going to look like. Even with a soul scan tablet, it would only show the soul and not the form it would take, giving Mettaton speculation that it might be a Ghost Monster like himself, and wondered if it would need a body to be built for it. Almost four months into the pregnancy, however, there was a darker, shapeless mass around the soul, which Sans commented to mean that it would already have a body of its own.

By that time, though, Papyrus was wary of even Sans and Mettaton coming too near him too often, so further speculation on the matter would have to wait. Month five was the worst time for Papyrus. He remained confined to the back of the house, hoarded every spare pillow and blanket in the house just to be able to sleep in a cocoon of security, and would spend hours crooning to himself in some odd language Sans told Mettaton was called 'Wingdings'. It kept Papyrus calm and happy, so Mettaton didn't comment on it.

Still, as Mettaton laid back on his couch on the other side of his bedroom, watching Papyrus sleep in the bed he had shanghaied, he couldn't help but feel sad and lonely without being there next to Papyrus. He missed cuddling and being close to his husband, and consoled himself by counting down the days to the guesstimated time Sans came up with to when he could hold both Papyrus and their baby.

The day—or rather, night—came five days between Sans's soonest and latest guesstimate, when Mettaton was snapped out of his dreaming by Papyrus making odd keening sounds. He leaped up and hurried over to the bed, seeing Papyrus curled up on himself, his bones almost glowing with an orange flush and his abdomen glowing even brighter.

Mettaton could feel a flutter of magic, sensing another soul surfacing, and frantically fumbled for a button behind his ear that worked as a kind of Bluetooth, glad he had set it to speed-dial for this occasion. "C'mon, c'mon, pick up...!" he muttered to himself as he pet over Papyrus's skull.

_"...ugh, d'you know what TIME it is—?"_

"SANS, GET YOUR COCCYX OVER HERE, CODE ORANGE!"

Mettaton wasn't even finished saying 'orange' before Sans was in the room, cellphone still in hand and not even fully dressed. Regardless of the fact, he hurriedly clambered up onto the bed and gently uncurled Papyrus, murmuring comfortingly in Wingdings. "There we go, bro," Sans said, petting Papyrus quietly before turning to Mettaton. "It's the baby's soul detaching from Papyrus's. I need you to reach in and get the egg out."

"...reach in?" Mettaton said weakly; he'd heard of what needed to be done to get the baby out, but now actually DOING it... "And I have to...?"

"He won't let anyone but the other parent touch his ectoplasm," Sans replied. "If he starts getting ornery I'll do what I can, but the sooner the egg is out, the sooner Paps's soul will stop trying to reconnect to the baby's. Just reach in, and pull it out. No biggie."

'No biggie', he says...

Mettaton winced and pressed his fingers to the orange ectoplasm, pausing before pushing in, the sensation akin to putting his hands in stiff jell-o. Immediately, Papyrus stiffened before keening louder, only Sans using blue magic on him keeping him still. The experience had to be completely unpleasant, so Mettaton clasped his hands around the solid ectoplasmic egg and pulled it out, hoping that he had done it right.

Papyrus was struggling and crying from discomfort and soul pain, unable to move from the amount of magic Sans was putting out to keep him still. Sans reached out and held Papyrus's skull in his hands, muttering comforts in Wingdings, which appeared to work, as Papyrus slowly stopped struggling and began to relax, though he didn't stop crying.

"Let him up, Sans!" Mettaton cried, holding the ectoplasm egg tightly, tearing up himself. "Please, just let him up!"

Sans sighed, his magic flickering as he released the hold on Papyrus, who sat up and scrambled over to Mettaton, looking over the egg. Mettaton remained still, not wanting to antagonize Papyrus, heaving a sigh of relief when Papyrus hugged him tightly and just sat there tiredly, his bones rattling with odd purring sounds.

Mettaton sat there until morning, long after Papyrus dozed off against him, his ectoplasmic abdomen having melted off but Mettaton couldn't be assed to care. Like the abdomen, the ectoplasm of the egg was slowly melting, but Sans warned not to speed up the process and to just let it happen. He didn't mind. He was content, sitting here with Papyrus dozing on his shoulder and their baby wriggling in the ectoplasmic egg. This was all he needed right now.

* * *

A baby Skeleton girl gurgled as she looked around at the adults that were staring at her.

Papyrus kept bursting into happy tears, showing signs of his passionate pep after his nap, too emotional to even form coherent words. Sans had to translate half the time, but he wasn't too far behind, looking overcome at seeing another Skeleton. Mettaton couldn't stop beaming either way, enthralled with the gorgeousness of the little girl's soul and eyelights, which were a beautiful fuchsia color glowing brighter than any Monster he'd ever seen.

"...she's gorgeous, guys..." Sans said, wiping at his eyesockets with his sleeve. "...she really is..."

"Of course she is, she takes after Papyrus," Mettaton replied, leaning his head on Papyrus's shoulder. Papyrus just hugged Mettaton, not saying anything. "...um...how can you tell she's a girl?"

"...isn't it obvious?" Sans replied, grinning. Mettaton rolled his eyes, not even walking into that one. He was just too happy right now to even care.


	11. The First to Go

It had been years...DECADES' worth of experiences and memories...and yet it all felt like it had all passed in the blink of an eye. One day, he was sitting in the park eating Nice Cream with his future husband...

...and the next, he was here in that very same park, holding an urn containing his dust, unable to part with it...not now. Not yet.

He curled his arms around the urn, holding it to him tightly, having run out of tears long ago. All that he could do was suffer the throbbing ache in his soul, eased only by the fact that the passing was peaceful and painless.

A hand on his shoulder pulled him from his grief, having not even noticed he had dropped to his knees until he realized he was looking UP at the owner of the hand. Sad, faded eyelights in dark eyesockets stared down at him, an expression of barely-contained grief on his skeletal face.

"...Sans..." he murmured, his shoulders shaking with more dry hitched sobs. "...it hurts, Sans...it hurts so much...!" He ducked his head down again, resting it atop the urn. "...how do you live with this...? How did you even...how do I go on without him, Sans...?"

Sans curled his arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. "...I know..." he replied, his voice quiet and solemn. "...I know it hurts..." He wiped his damp eyesockets with his sleeve. "...and...you just have to take it...one day at a time, bro...that's all you can do." He let out a shaky sigh, hugging him tighter. "...but you were there for me when Toriel went...so I'll be here for you too...and your kids...and your grandkids...we're all here for you, Mettaton..."

The small crowd a short distance away was a true testament to that. Skeleton and Ghost Monsters of varying age comforted one another, wanting to give their family patriarch and Sans privacy to grieve Papyrus, as was customary for those closest to the deceased. As badly as he was feeling, Mettaton preferred it this way.

He had been through many funerals by this time. Our of their group, Asgore had been the first to go, with Frisk, Undyne, and Toriel doing the private grieving. Toriel had taken his passing harder than anyone expected, with Sans mentioning that she wished she had fully repaired their friendship years ago. Undyne had been inconsolable for months at having lost her father figure, with Frisk not faring much better, before they were ready to spread his dust over his estate which he had lovingly tended to over the years, turning it into the most beautiful garden in the county. It was horrible and depressing, and Mettaton was loathe to suffer another.

But the years passed, people aged, and deaths occurred for some reason or the other. Undyne, Alphys, and then Toriel. Frisk and Sans spent almost three whole days grieving before they spread her dust over her school, with Sans keeping a small vial on his person for himself.

Among all the death, there was life. Mettaton and Papyrus had six beautiful children together, and Papyrus carried them all except the youngest. Mettaton wanted to carry one for himself, having forsaken his career entirely for it, and was not sorry in the least. His career in entertainment had run its course, and he bowed out gracefully, more than happy to let his children take the spotlight.

Dancers, artists, chefs, singers, actors—save for his fifth-born; she became a physicist—and he was proud of them all. He was there for every performance, every award, every wedding and birth of a grandchild...

...and he was there with Papyrus.

His dear, sweet Papyrus, who kept his zeal and love of life up until the end, when he could no longer walk on his own two frail legs. The signs had been there, of his aging, but Mettaton hated thinking about it. Like any living creature, he had lived his course in life, and it was finally over.

It was a beautiful autumn day, but Papyrus, for once, didn't even try to get out of bed. Mettaton could feel the slow dimming of his soul, and didn't want to leave for anything, not even to call anyone in his family. He didn't want them to see this...HE didn't want to see this...but he couldn't leave.

He gently laced his fingers with Papyrus's, squeezing lightly. "...does it hurt, Papy?" he asked quietly, his eyes tracing every angle of Papyrus's age-grayed skull, wanting to memorize the features he had known and loved for over ten decades.

Papyrus's dimmed eyelights flickered slightly, his smile weak but brave. "...no," he replied just as quietly. "...just...feels numb..." His fingers twitched against Mettaton's. "...except for this...I can feel YOU, Mettaton." His smile brightened slightly, and Mettaton swore the decades lifted off. "...it's the best feeling in the world...being with you."

Mettaton's eyes welled with tears, letting them drip down his cheeks. "...I feel the same way, Papyrus..." he said, his voice cracking slightly. "...I love you so much, Papy darling...you know that, right?"

"Nyeh heh...of course I know, Mettaton..." Papyrus replied, turning his gaze upward at the canopy of their bed, which held a hologram of the clearest night sky. Mettaton kept his eyes on Papyrus, tightening his hold on the frail bony hand, seeing the eyelights dim into nothingness, the soul in Papyrus's rib cage flickering. "...thank you, Mettaton.."

"...for what, darling?"

"...for going on...that first date with me..." His smile twitched before relaxing, his body going lax as his soul snuffed out entirely.

Mettaton clenched his eyes shut, unable to watch his husband dust next to him, only feeling the hand within his own dissolve until he was clutching all that remained of Papyrus.

Sans had arrived not long after. Had Mettaton been coherent, he wouldn't have been surprised. Sans had a bond with Papyrus that only death could break, and he knew when Papyrus had passed. It was a blur of emotions later, and Mettaton found himself sitting in his house as his family arrived, the urn that contained Papyrus's dust in front of him, Sans having done that work himself.

And now here he was, kneeling in the park with Sans, holding onto the urn like it was his last lifeline keeping him tethered to Papyrus.

Sans sat next to him, fingers clenching into the grass quietly. "...y'know...I almost felt wrong taking his dust," he commented. He glanced over at Mettaton. "...bein' there...with you...I'm sure that if it wouldn't have upset you so much...that's where he'd want his dust to be. You were his favorite thing in the world."

Mettaton hugged the urn tighter. "...hardly his favorite..." he replied. "...Papyrus had enough love to give everyone he cared about equally..." He looked up across the field of the park, which hadn't changed hardly any in the past hundred-odd years...not that it would have. He bought it long ago to make sure of that.

"Be that as it may," Sans said, reaching into his pocket and taking out a small vial on a chain like his own around his neck and putting it around Mettaton's neck, clipping it secure. "...you were special, Mettaton. You were his brightest star."

Mettaton smiled, wiping his eyes. "...you should...still write greeting cards, Sans..." he remarked before taking the urn in his hands and taking a deep breath. "...his last words to me were 'thank you for going on that first date with me'...so it's only proper I spread his dust on that memory. Ready?"

Sans nodded, standing up and taking the lid off of the urn, tipping it out with Mettaton, the wind catching it and spreading it out over the park until nothing visible was left.

Mettaton stood there for the longest time, staring out at the park before turning to Sans. The small Skeleton was gray-boned, but not frail, his eyelights still glimmering as sharply as ever. Mettaton could even sense the strong pulse of his soul that was quivering with grief under his rib cage.

"...Sans...how long...until one of us is the next...?" he asked quietly. Sans heaved a shaky sigh, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"...Hard to say," he replied. "You're a Ghost Monster...your kind is practically immortal, physically. And me..." He let out a breath of mirthless laughter. "...I'm just cursed with good health and bad luck. I would've offed myself from grief, if I didn't have all those nieces and nephews to spoil rotten." He gave Mettaton a weak smile. "...kinda helps that my brothers needed me too. And one still does."

Mettaton smiled back, leaning down and kissing the top of Sans's skull. "...I still do," he agreed. "...and when it's Frisk's time...I'll be there for you too."

Sans's eyelights flickered again, something of an internal secret flashing across before vanishing. "...I'm sure you will," he replied. "Young'uns aren't what they used to be anymore. Not hardy like us old-timers." He stuck out his elbow to offer Mettaton his arm, heading back to the crowd when the mech took it.

Mettaton walked slowly, and not just to make sure Sans and his shorter legs could keep up, reaching up and touching the vial of Papyrus's dust around his neck, thinking back to that first date he had with Papyrus.

And their first kiss.

The first dinner with his family.

Their first romp in the backseat.

Their first fight.

Their first time.

Their first 'I love yous'.

Their first anniversary.

Their first child being born.

Their first time for everything.

And he wished he could do it all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There WILL be a wrap-up chapter, and then the end.


	12. The First Time 'Round Again

It had been a very strange day for Mettaton.

First he woke up after not even remembering falling asleep, making a mental note to have Alphys recheck his systems for shut-down glitches, and was suddenly hit with the urge to call her up and just ask how she was doing. It seemed like AGES since they last spoke...

Huh. That was an odd thought. Almost as odd as the idea that he had seen Napstablook just yesterday when he hadn't actually spoken to his cousin in months. Now he had the idea and the DESIRE to.

Ugh, he really did need to get his systems checked out. To Alphys's it was then.

* * *

Alphys seemed surprised by his impromptu visit, but ushered him into the lab to check him over as requested, and found nothing out of the ordinary. She still gave him a tuneup 'since you're already here', and as she was putting her tools away, she brought out her tablet and pulled up several images.

"I...I've been thinking about your new body," she said, handing the tablet over to him, "and I came up with these components here, did some armor style tweaking...what do you think?"

Mettaton's LED lights flickered as he looked the body over, getting the sensation of looking into a mirror, almost. This...was HIM. HIS body.

_"Any body is your actual body."_

…...where did THAT come from?

He looked up and saw Alphys staring at him nervously, wringing her hands together tightly, waiting for the inevitable criticism she had come to expect...and he had none.

"...It's absolutely PERFECT, Alphys," he said, his LEDs shimmering. "I LOVE it!" He handed her the tablet back, noting the genuine surprise on her face. "I would be much obliged if you could work on it soon!"

"O...of course..." Alphys said, putting the tablet away. "I'll...have to borrow your body to do it, it shouldn't take TOO long, I promise—!" She cut off when Mettaton's LEDs dimmed and the body shut down, a panel in the front opening as a light pink Ghost Monster sifted out.

"Take your time, Alphys," Mettaton said, hovering over the metal body. "You can't rush perfection, darling. I'll take a short vacation while you work. I've been meaning to spend time with Blooky."

Alphys blinked slowly. "...a...alright then..." she said, giving Mettaton a smile. "You...have fun on your vacation. I'll have it done when you get back."

"Thank you, Alphys." He faded out of sight; had he stayed, he would have seen the look of joy on Alphys's face at those three simple words.

* * *

Napstablook about exorcised out of existence when he saw Metta at his doorstep, and it took a good few long minutes to calm down before inviting his cousin in for some ghost tea.

Reconnecting was easier than Mettaton had anticipated. Napstablook brought him up to speed on goings-on; that his favorite snail was still alive and well, that Maddablook still refused to possess anything other than dummies and was still as antisocial as ever, and that he had created a few more mixes that weren't all that good.

Mettaton gave them a listen-to, and HAD to disagree. These mixes were among the best he had ever heard, and he told his cousin so.

"I'm going to have to INSIST on using these in a few new shows!" he exclaimed. "Oh, or better yet, why don't you come onto the show, Blooky?"

Napstablook wailed, covering his eyes. "Oh...ohhhhh, no, I couldn't...!" he moaned morosely. "It's garbage, Metta...it would just drag your shows down..."

"Nonsense!" Mettaton huffed, papping over his cousin's head. "Blooky, your music is AMAZING, just like you." He smiled when Napstablook began crying for other reasons. "...can we listen to some of it? We can lie back and pretend we're pretty, glittery garbage."

Napstablook nodded and put on some SpookTrance, the both of them lying back and zoning out.

Mettaton hadn't done this in a long while; he had almost forgotten how amazing and comforting it was. As he put himself into the zone, he had interesting visions around him...

_….a huge, worldwide career, being beloved by all..._

_….walking in a park in the sunshine..._

_….stargazing in the back of a red convertible..._

_….dancing the night away in the arms of..._

Huh. That was oddly lucid and specific. And he was with the same person in all of it. No real features, just...

….just a big, warm smile.

Several hours later, he convinced Napstablook that he simply HAD to join him on some shows with his music, and that they could even do some partner work with albums. After much more convincing, he had Napstablook play some pop-like tunes he had been working on, getting a feel for the music before making up some lyrics on the spot to go along with them.

They did the mixing outside next to some echo flowers for feedback, and Mettaton was really getting into it, envisioning a whole dance routine to go along with it. The moves, the lights, the sounds, the CROWD—!

"Oh wowie, that's AMAZING!"

Both Ghosts yelped at the exclamation, looking up to see two Skeleton Monsters standing nearby holding bags with labels that indicated they were on their way back from Hotlands. Napstablook hurriedly fumbled to turn his music player off, and Mettaton could only hover frozen in place, not expecting THIS, not outside of his body...!

His anxiety had his form fading to invisibility, unable to cope with the idea of someone seeing him like this...!

"Oh, oh no, I'm sorry!" the taller Skeleton fretted, dropping his bags. "We didn't mean to startle you, it was just...that music was just so wonderful! And your voice...!" He trailed off, and Mettaton quietly peeked up, seeing the purest sincerity he had ever seen on someone's face.

"...I know your voice..."

Oh. Oh no...

"You're Mettaton!"

OH NO...!

"CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH!?"

…...wait, what?

He looked up to see the Skeleton looking just as starstruck as ever and not even caring that he was a Ghost. The revelation was...startling, at best.

"...you...don't mind...?" he asked, cursing his innate bashfulness when he didn't have his confidence armor of his body to hide behind. "That...I'm a...?"

The Skeleton tipped his head to the side, looking genuinely confused. "Of course not," he replied. "Why would I? You're still you, aren't you? Why would it matter what form you take. Any body is your actual body. It's YOU I'm a huge fan of!"

Mettaton felt his face go magenta, resisting the urge to curl up in a little ball of emotion. Instead, he channeled to confidence his body gave him outward and gave the Skeleton a smile. "Well...thank you very much," he said. "It's very kind of you to say such a thing...er...?"

"Oh, how silly of me to not introduce myself!" The Skeleton gave Mettaton a dazzling smile. "I am the Great Papyrus!"

That smile...

….that was the very smile he saw in his visions...

It made his soul pulse softly, and he quickly quelled it down lest he embarrass himself further. "...that's...a nice name. Papyrus..." He smiled softly. "...I like it."

Papyrus pressed his hands to his face, his cheekbones dusting light orange. "Oh wowie, Mettaton likes my name..." he exclaimed, the sight making Mettaton giggle and blush more magenta himself. "This is like a real dream come true!"

"I'm...glad you think so," Mettaton said. "...I hope to see you at one of my shows sometime." At that, Papyrus's expression fell; for a Skeleton, Mettaton noticed that he was VERY expressive. He'd make a decent actor.

"Oh, I wish I could!" he sighed. "But I live in Snowdin, and I'm a sentry in training to be a Royal Guardsman! That takes up so much of my time!" His eyelights brightened. "That's why I love your shows so much! After a long day of hard work and training, you just brighten me right back up so I don't feel so drained!" His expression then went oddly...coy? "...You...really do shine like a star..." His whole face blushed orange.

Mettaton's face was GLOWING like a neon sign of pink—and so was his soul. In all the time he had been an entertainer, he had never received such a genuine, glowing compliment before, one that easily outdid a cheering audience and stacks of fan mail, bar NONE.

"Th...thank you..." he said quietly, sincerity lacing his every word, then he drew forth his confidence again. "Well. If you're unable to go to the Hotlands, I'll just have to go to Snowdin and make SURE you're there to see it!"

Papyrus made a sound he was sure only Dog Monsters could hear before beaming. "That would be AMAZING!" he exclaimed, the lights in his eyes practically star-shaped. "And you'll HAVE to bring your friend and his music too!"

Behind him, Mettaton could hear Napstablook murmur in genuine surprise, and beamed. "Oh, you bet we will, darling!" he said. "I absolutely REFUSE to sing anything that isn't composed by Blooky here!" Napstablook let out a low, continuous wail of embarrassment as he faded away. "He's shy. But he'll get used to it soon."

Papyrus beamed again, making Mettaton feel oddly warm from the smile alone, then both of them turned when the smaller Skeleton that Mettaton had completely forgotten about 'ahem-ed' and gave Papyrus an amused look. "Oh, goodness me!" Papyrus said, hurrying to pick up the bags he had dropped. "Sorry, Sans, got caught up!"

"No worries, bro," Sans said, shrugging. "Just thought you'd want to get home to make your spaghetti before dinnertime."

"You KNOW I do!" Papyrus huffed before turning back to Mettaton. "It was a thrill to meet you, Mettaton!" There was that smile again. "And I must say, you look positively ADORABLE as you are!" Before Mettaton could do some embarrassed wailing and vanishing of his own, Papyrus waved and hurried back over to Sans. "I can't wait to see you again!" he called before heading back down the path with Sans.

Mettaton rubbed his magenta face, trying to process the conversation that he had just had, his sight catching glimpse of Sans, the smaller Skeleton, who looked his way and winked almost secretively before heading off down the path with his brother.

Well. Someone who found him interesting and adorable as a Ghost.

That was a first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an epilogue to go! I hope this helps mend your shattered souls.


	13. The First Time For the Last

Sans sat by quietly, watching with a light and happy soul as his little brother chatted away with Mettaton, the two hitting it off as perfectly as they had that first time around.

...................

He hadn't planned on this, to be perfectly honest. He had been more than ready to let that timeline end peacefully; as heartbreaking as it had been to lose Toriel, he and Frisk had agreed that this had been a good, long life for the both of them, and that it could simply go on as it normally should. Over the years, they both began losing memories of resets and other timelines, an indication that this one would be the main one, the one to leave on a pleasant note. The end of their hellish go-arounds. Sans speculated that they had perhaps one more left that they could pull off, but why would they want to?

Papyrus's funeral, that's why.

Losing Toriel had been bad enough, but much like Mettaton, Sans hadn't been ready to let go of his little brother. Much like the brightest light, Papyrus had shone, flickered, and died much too soon, contrary to Sans being a dim, steadily-burning flame, hardened by resets and preserved by cruel luck. Much like Frisk, who had been a hardy 120-odd years old, that cruel hand had them live through the deaths of friends and family, with only each other to know why and be of any real comfort.

But seeing Mettaton at that funeral, and hearing him ask about their extended mortality, he realized that Mettaton had it worse, so much worse. Mettaton had known and loved Papyrus in ways Sans never could, and in the end, would even outlive most of his own children, unless he decided to take his own life.

Being that Sans truly considered Mettaton his brother in every way, he was loathed to leave Mettaton alone without reassurance of some kind.

Even now, the details were fuzzy, and he knew in time, they would fade completely, but he and Frisk spoke at length about what to do. In the end, they found a solution; it would be a blessing in some timelines, and a curse in others, they knew...but it was a solution that had been passed around since the dawn of time, from one living being to another, and they both agreed that after all that had happened, it was time to pass the torch.

They called Mettaton to their home, and explained everything.

EVERYTHING.

The good, the bad, the advantages, the difficult choices, and the curse that went with it.

And in the end, Mettaton accepted the heavy burden of the RESET.

And so, when Frisk finally breathed their last breath and Sans felt time continue on, he knew that things had changed, forever.

He stayed with Mettaton for as long as he absolutely could, before he finally felt his own life coming to an end. He said his goodbyes, told Mettaton that things would be alright, not to rush a reset, and preemptively apologized if he was an ass towards him again before everything faded into black.

Waking up in his own bed was not anything new, but waking up in his own bed young again, and NOT on a day where Frisk would fall was a real treat. He didn't quite remember what this day really was, but he DID know it was a couple of years before the reset date he was used to, and already things were different.

Undyne and Alphys were already pre-dating (beating around the bush, more like it...).

He apparently only had one job—working in the labs as a physicist (at least he still had teleportation to get to and from work and Snowdin; Hotlands were really too stifling for him).

His job was apparently fruitful, because Asgore had retracted his stance on 'all humans who fall are to be killed', because there were—to his actual shock—several humans of varying ages living alongside the Monsters, all having fallen for a reason and were given the option of staying and having their souls studied and possibly replicated, rather than being killed.

That alone almost put Sans to tears; he had been so tired of seeing humans come down only to be killed. It drove him to work harder with Papyrus-level dedication to make sure this would work.

As for Papyrus, his brother remained a sentry, and was in Royal Guard training much like last time, and again, Undyne felt he was better suited for something less brutal, and Sans agreed. Recalling Papyrus's past life, he rummaged around the garbage dump until he found a treasure trove of cookbooks, giving them to Papyrus with the advice of following the recipes to the T.

FINALLY, it was good to live down here and have edible home meals. He just hoped Papyrus would get the hint and trade the Royal Guard for a restaurant sometime.

It wasn't long until the opportunity presented itself where he could have Papyrus and Mettaton meet face-to-face. He didn't expect it to be when Mettaton was out in his Ghost form, but it worked out beautifully. Mettaton apparently didn't remember his past life, but Sans wasn't surprised. It would come eventually, with time, and already Mettaton was changed for the better.

True to his word, Mettaton did visit Snowdin with Napstablook in tow, and after a great show, hung out with Papyrus and that instant connection they had back in Waterfall only strengthened. Despite having never given Papyrus that autograph, Mettaton instead sent dozens of letters to Papyrus, signing his name at the bottom with a flourish so Papyrus could have 'all the autographs he wanted'.

Heh, Sans almost forgot how sappy those two could be toward one another.

.................

Sans knocked back another drink and drew his gaze away from his brother and Mettaton animatedly chatting on about something or the other, staring out of Grillby's window at the snow, looking in the direction of the stone door deep into the woods.

Welp. He managed to do it. He got the gears running for this next set of timelines, and now it was up to Mettaton to take care of the rest.

In the meantime, he had a couple of knock-knock jokes to go practice, to start in motion his own happy ending.

**THE END**


End file.
